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lie met the hot-mouthed, vicious brute, his rude spear 

clasped in both hands 






\ 

Far Past the Frontier 

Two Boy Pioneers 


JAMES A. BRADEN 



Illnstrated ' 



by 

W. H. FRY, 





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AKRON ^ OHIO 

rHE SAALFIELB PUBLISHING CO, 

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NEK' rORK 


CHICAGO 




THe LIBHARV OF 
CONGRESS, 
Two Cowes Recfivec 

ADG. 4 190? 

COPVPIOMT FNT¥»Y 
Uvvty.U-w » 0 *1- 

CCASSO/ XXa NO. 

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COPY 8. 


Copyright, 1902, 

BY 

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TH^ SAAI,FIEI.D PUBLISHING COMPANY 


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MADE BY 

THE WERNER COMPANY 

AKRON, OHIO 


/ 


LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAOB 

He met the hot-mouthed, vicious brute, his rude spear 

clasped in both hands Frontispiece 

For a second they both balanced on the window-sill at 

the very verge of falling 57 

He cast him violently down as though the brave were 

a great stone 118 

In another minute Big Pete had cut the captive’s bonds 285 



v'- \ 


CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER PAGE 

I. — The Flight of Big Pete Ellis 5 

II. — A Bound Boy’s Story 19 

III. — The Beginning of a Perilous Journey. 33 

IV. — The Man Under the Bed 47 

V. — A Mysterious Shot in the Darkness. . 62 

VI. — On Lonely Mountain Roads 76 

VII. — On Into the Wilderness 91 

VIII. — Friends or Foes? 105 

IX. — The Scalp at Big Buffalo’s Belt 121 

X. — A Night with the Indians 134 

XL — Again a Hidden Enemy 150 

XII. — Building a Cabin 164 

XIII. — The Strange Story of Arthur Bridges. 179 

XIV. — Treed by Wolves 192 

XV. — A Maple Sugar Camp in the Wilderness 206 

XVL — The Hatred of Big Buffalo 219 

XVH. — Danger 232 

XVIH.— The Attack 246 

XIX. — The Gauntlet 260 

XX.— Flight 273 

XXL — Facing New Dangers 287 

XXH. — The Limit of Endurance 301 

XXHI. — ^Mysteries Cleared Away 315 

XXIV. — A Race to Connecticut 332 


Far Past The Frontier, 


CHAPTER I. 

The Flight of Big Pete Ellis. 

“Look out thar 

A young, red-bearded man of herculean 
frame fiercely jerked the words between his teeth 
as he leaped between two boys who were about to 
enter the country store, from the door of which he 
sprang. 

Diving aside, but quickly turning, the lads 
saw the cause of their sudden movement bound 
into a wagon standing near, and with a furious 
cry to the horses, whip them to such instant, 
rapid speed that the strap with which the animals 
were tied, snapped like a bit of string. With a 
clatter and rumbling roar the team and wagon 
dashed around a corner, the clumsy vehicle all 
but upsetting, as the wheels on one side flew 
clear of the ground. 

Running forward, the boys were in time to 


6 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


see, fast disappearing down the road toward 
where the September sun was setting, the reck- 
less driver bending over, lashing the horses to a 
frantic gallop. The wagon swayed and jolted 
over the ruts and holes, threatening momentarily 
to throw the fellow headlong. An empty barrel 
in the box bounced up and down and from side to 
side like a thing alive. 

“Something has happened 1 Big Pete isn’t 
doing that for fun I” the larger of the boys ex- 
claimed. 

“Run for Dr. Cartwright, quick 1 Big Pete 
has -killed Jim Huson, I’m afraid!” 

The speaker was Marvel Rice, proprietor of 
the store in which Huson was a clerk. “Tell 
him to hurry— hurry ! ’ ’ the merchant cried again, 
as without a second’s hesitation the two boys 
sped away along the tan-bark path. 

“Are you coming, Ree?” asked the more 
slender lad, glancing over his shoulder with a 
droll smile. He was a wiry chap of sixteen and 
ran like a grey hound, easily taking the lead. 

His companion made no reply, but his spirit 
fired by the sarcastic question, he forged ahead, 
and the other found it necessary to waste no more 
breath in humor. 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


7 


An admirer of youthful strength and devel- 
opment would have clapped his hands with de- 
light to have seen the boys’ close race. Return 
Kingdom, whom the slender lad had called 
“Ree,” was a tall, strongly built, muscular fel- 
low of seventeen. His fine black hair waved un- 
der the brim of a dilapidated beaver as he ran. 
His brown eyes were serious and keen and his 
mouth and chin emphasized the determination 
expressed in them. Though his clothes were of 
rough home-spun stuff, and his feet were encased 
in coarse boots, an observing person would have 
seen that he was possessed of the decision and 
strength in both mind and body which go to make 
leaders among men. 

The smaller boy was John Jerome— quick, 
vigorous, brown-haired, blue-eyed, freckled, and 
his attire was like that of his companion whose 
follower he was in everything save foot-racing. 
In that he would give way to no one, not exclud- 
ing the trained Indian runners who sometimes 
came to the neighboring village. 

‘ ‘ Easy, easy ! ’ ’ Dr. Cartwright sang out, the 
boys nearly colliding with him as he was driving 
from his dooryard. “Somebody dying?” he 
asked as the runners halted. 


8 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


“Jim Huson’s been hurt; they want you at 
the store, quick, ’ ’ Ree Kingdom breathlessly ex- 
plained. 

“Badly?” asked the doctor with provoking 
deliberation, drawing on his gloves. 

“Pretty nigh killed, I guess; Big Pete Ellis 
did it,” put in John Jerome, amazed that the 
physician did not at once drive off at lightning 
speed. 

“And they want me to finish the job do 
they?” smiled Dr. Cartwright, who was never 
known to become excited. “Well, I’ll see what 
I can do. Daisy, get up.” 

The latter words were for the faithful mare 
that had drawn the doctor’s chaise, or two- 
wheeled carriage, summer and winter for so 
many years that she was as well known as the 
physician himself. The horse set off at a leisure- 
ly jog) the master’s second “Get up Daisy,” 
though drawled out as if haste were the last thing 
to be thought of, quickened the animal’s speed to 
a lively trot. 

The boys started back at a walk, speculating 
on what could have provoked Big Pete’s assault 
and how serious Jim Huson’s injury might be. 

“It upsets all our plans,” said John; “for 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


9 


Jim was just the fellow to tell us the price of 
everything and just what western emigrants 
should take along. We can’t talk to Mr. Rice 
about our going, as we could talk to Jim. ’ ’ 

“Mr. Rice is so excitable he may have 
thought Huson worse hurt than he is, ’ ’ Ree an- 
swered. “Anyway, we are not to start for three 
weeks, and Jim may be up and around long be- 
fore we go. So don’t be blue. There is more 
than one way to skin a cat. If we can’t have 
Jim’s advice we can talk with some one else, or 
use our own judgment as to what we must buy. 
In the end we will have to depend entirely on our- 
selves as to what we should or should not do, any- 
way ; but come what may, three weeks from this 
very Monday, we shall go, if we live and have our 
health. ’ ’ 

“Bully for you, Ree! In three weeks our 
faces will be turned toward the setting sun!”- 

‘ ‘ Our backs will be toward the rising sun in 
three weeks, less one day, ’ ’ Ree answered. ‘ ‘ But 
scamper along; let’s get back to the store and 
find out first how Jim was hurt and how badly. 
It will be a sorry job for Pete Ellis, if they 
catch him.’ ’ 

The assault on the clerk at the Comers ’ store 


10 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER,. 


had aroused the neighborhood. Coming at the 
hour of sun-down when the day ’s work was near- 
ly over, it found people with leisure to hurry to 
the scene to learn all about the affair. A dozen 
men and boys and a few women and children were 
gathered near when Return Kingdom and John 
Jerome arrived. The boys found that their in- 
jured friend had been carried to the inn across 
the street, where Dr. Cartwright was attending 
him, and all were anxiously waiting that good 
man’s opinion. 

The story of the assault as it was told, over 
and over again, as the crowd about the store in- 
creased, was that Big Pete had attempted to pass 
counterfeit money on Jim Huson. The latter re- 
fused it, accusing Ellis of having brought spur- 
ious coin to him at other times as well, and threat- 
ening to cause his arrest. Without warning Big 
Pete seized a heavy butter firkin and threw it 
squarely at the clerk ’s head. 

Huson dropped unconscious to the fioor, and 
Mr. Rice, who ran to his aid, received a similar 
blow. Ellis lost no time in dashing through the 
open door, then adding to his other crimes the 
theft of horses and wagon to assist in his escape. 

“Well, there is no great loss witho.ut some 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


11 


small gain,” said one man. “We are quit of 
Big Pete, that’s certain, and it is a good riddance 
of bad rubbish. He was the worst man in this 
bailiwick, and I am thinking that more than one 
job of pilfering might safely be laid at bis door.” 

It was, indeed, true. Big Pete was not 
looked upon as a desirable citizen. So bad bad 
bis name become that he could scarcely find em- 
ployment where he was known. The honest peo- 
ple of old Connecticut bad little liking for dis- 
honesty, notwithstanding the stories of the 
money-making ingenuity of that state’s inhab- 
itants. 

Leaning against a post, apart from the other 
men, Ree Kingdom presently noticed an aged 
farmer, alternately wringing bis bands and bury- 
ing bis face in them. He was the owner of the 
team which had been stolen, and, heedless of all 
else idly lamented bis loss, complaining that no 
one went in pursuit of the thief to secure his 
horses, but wholly forgetful of the best of script- 
ural proverbs that God helps those who help 
themselves. The boy was about to speak to him, 
when two men dashed up on horse-back. 

“There’s the constable,” John Jerome ex- 


12 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


claimed— “The constable and his brother, and 
they are going after Big Pete. ^ ’ 

Before Bee could answer, the officer called 
for volunteers to assist in his undertaking, for 
Ellis was known to be a dangerous man. 

“Here, some of you young bucks that can 
ride bare-back, strip the harness off my team 
an’ help ketch that murderous heathen! Only 
wish’t I wasn’t all crippled up with rheumatics, 
I ’d show him ! ” 

The speaker was Captain William Bowen, 
who had fought in the Eevolutionary War, end- 
ing seven years earlier, (1783) and was proud of 
it; and who, though really sadly crippled by 
rheumatism, was still a sure shot and not the man 
to be trifled with by law-breakers. He would 
permit no one to call him anything but “Cap- 
tain.” His old rifle was always within reach 
and two big pistols were ever his companions. 

For a minute no one made a move to acceiot 
the captain’s otfer, and then with: “Come on, 
John,” Bee Kingdom waited no longer. In a 
twinkling the boys unharnessed the horses, leav- 
ing only the bridles on them, and were mounted. 
Tom Huson, the blacksmith and Peter Piper, 
a half-breed Indian, a sort of roustabout in the 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


13 


neighborhood, had also hurriedly prepared to 
join in the chase. 

“Take my twins, lads, they bite as hard as 
they bark,” called Captain Bowen, passing his 
brace of pistols up to Ree and John, and in an- 
other moment the party was galloping in pursuit 
of the big fellow whose crime might yet be mur- 
der, Dr. Cartwright having reported that only 
time could tell. 

“Who-ho-ho-ho-hol” John Jerome could 
not resist the temptation to give an Indian war- 
whoop. There is an exhilaration in a rapid ride 
by moonlight at any time, and with the clatter 
of the hoofs of a half dozen horses upon the beat- 
en road, the forms of other riders, shadowy and 
ghost-like on either side to lend a feeling of com- 
panionship, and a knowledge of danger’s pres- 
ence to make every sense the more alert, there is 
no finer excitement. Little wonder is it that 
John could not repress a yell, and though of a 
much quieter disposition, Ree felt like shouting, 
also, 

“Who-ho-ho-hol” John yelled again, a half 
hour later, and the women and children ran to 
the door of a house they were passing to see who 
it might be that was dashing by at such break- 


14 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


neck speed. The air came soft and cool to the 
riders half hidden in the shadows of the trees 
which bordered the road, though the moon was 
shining gloriously. 

“We will send you on ahead to tell Pete we 
are coming, if you are so fond of making it 
known, youngster,” exclaimed the constable as 
John gave still another whoop. 

“He’d have a cat fit if he knew you were 
after him. I’ll wager,” the boy answered, net- 
tled by the man’s sarcasm. “Suppose I do ride 
on and let him know.” 

John leaned back and slapped his horse’s 
flank. The animal, scarcely more than a colt, 
sprang forward at great speed. At the same 
time the young rider raised up on his knees, then 
on his feet and keeping his balance with seeming 
ease, standing nearly erect, the horse running its 
fastest, he held the reins in one hand, waved his 
hat in the other, and again yelled like an Indian. 

“That young dare-devil will kill himself one 
of these days, ’ ’ said the blacksmith. ‘ ‘ That colt 
of Captain Bowen’s is likely to take it into her 
head to bring up short at any minute. Better 
call him back. Kingdom. ’ ’ 

Ree had no fear that his friend could not 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


15 


take care of himself, but in answer to the sugges- 
tion, he gave a shrill, peculiar whistle which 
made the woodland ring. Like a shot John drop- 
ped to a sitting posture as he heard the call, and 
in another minute Eee had ridden up beside him. 
Before either could speak, a black object loomed 
up in the narrow road and they had barely time 
to rein their horses in before they were upon it, 
the animals leaping sidewise to avoid a collision. 

“Big Pete’s wagon, sure as shooting I It’s 
broken down ! ’ ’ ejaculated Bee. 

‘ ‘ Scotland ! Where would I have landed if I 
had been standing up and this colt had run into 
it?” John exclaimed. As he spoke the others of 
their party came up. 

“Here’s the wagon, but Pete and the horses 
are gone, ’ ’ called Kee. ‘ ‘ He can ’t be far ahead. ’ ’ 
‘ ‘ There ’s no telling. Hurry on, ’ ’ answered 
the constable who had hastily sprung off his 
horse to examine the wreck. ‘ ‘ Here are the har- 
nesses, but Pete is trying to get away with both 
horses. Keep your wits about you, boys, there is 
likely to be some shooting ! ’ ’ 

Ree had been the first to start fonvard, and 
was one hundred yards in advance of the others 
when his quick eye detected the dim outlines of 


16 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


a man on horseback in the shadow of a low 
branching oak just before him at the roadside. 
He recognized the huge figure of Big Pete and 
without a word guided his horse straight to- 
ward the fellow. The criminal saw him and with 
a yell started off. 

Bee’s horse with a splendid bound cleared 
the ditch beside the highway, and in another 
moment the boy had seized the bridle of the 
horse Big Pete was leading, just as the fellow 
was getting the animal he bestrode under rapid 
way for a race for his liberty. It was clear 
that he had been delayed by the breaking down 
of the wagon, and had hidden at the roadside 
hoping his pursuers would pass him by. With 
a determined grip Bee clung to the bridle of the 
led horse, though he was nearly jerked to the 
ground. With his other hand he sought to check 
his own animal, but the skittish young thing had 
taken fright and was now running ahead of the 
fiying criminal’s horses. 

A great out-cry came from the constable and 
his party as they saw what had happened and 
dug spurs into their mounts. Down the road the 
pursued and pursuers raced, Bee Kingdom whol- 
ly unable to retard Big Pete ’s progress but still 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


17 


clinging to the bridle of the horse between them, 
the constable and his men trying their best to 
overtake the fugitive, but unable to gain on him. 

“Shoot! why don’t you shoot?” yelled Eee 
to his friends at last, and a pair of pistols cracked 
simultaneously, a third and fourth rapidly fol- 
lowing. 

Ree heard the bullets whistle near his head 
and realized that he was in almost as much dan- 
ger of being hit, as Big Pete. But again he 
cried: 

“Shoot!” 

The pursuers were slowly but surely falling 
behind in the race. The burly Ellis, glancing 
back, was quick to see that fortune favored him. 
He leaned far over from his horse and before Eee 
Kingdom could detect his purpose in the dusky 
light, seized the boy by the neck. With a giant’s 
strength he pulled the lad partially from his 
seat, endeavoring to hurl him to the ground. 
Failing, he relinquished his hold on the reins, 
and using both hands, succeeded in drawing 
Kingdom over the unridden horse between them 
to the shoulders of his own horse. And then 
with herculean efforts he tried to throw the boy 
to the earth. 

2 


18 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


But Bee held to his own horse’s reins with 
bull dog ferocity, and with all his strength re- 
sisted the other’s effort. As he was jerked from 
his seat, however, the strain on the reins caused 
his horse to sharply swerve inward, crowding 
against the other animals, and in a twinkling 
the three of them, already frantic with the fury 
of their wild race, left the course and sped across 
a woodland at the unfenced roadside. 

Gasping an oath, the enraged giant tried 
again to push Bee to the ground, and this time he 
succeeded ; but he himself went off head-foremost 
with the boy, who held to his arm with a grip 
of steel, dragging him suddenly down. Freed 
of their burden, the horses ran on. Big Pete 
cursing frightfully as he sprang to his feet to 
find them far beyond his reach. 

Lying still, bruised but not seriously hurt by 
his fall. Bee Kingdom was thinking fast. • He felt 
for his pistol inspired by the thought that he 
would capture the criminal yet, and wishing he 
had used it earlier. But the weapon was gone — 
lost in the wild ride, no doubt. The next instant 
Ellis swiftly turned and seized him by the 
throat; and he knew that his life was in the 
giant’s hands. 


CHAPTER 11. 


A Bound Boy^s Story. 

With the horses gone beyond recapture, Big 
Pete must needs depend on his own legs if he 
meant to escape. The constable 's party could not 
be far beliind, and with the boy, whose throat he 
clutched, to point the way in which he had gone, 
when the officer cam^e up, his chance of getting 
away was much less than it would be should that 
boy be powerless to give any information. 

Ree Kingdom thought of this and lay per- 
fectly still, feigning insensibility but keenly 
wondering what disposition would be made of 
him, and resolved to fight to the last breath if his 
pretense of unconsciousness were discovered. 
Then the giant’s grip about his throat grew 
tighter, and he felt that a terrible struggle and 
perhaps death were just at hand. Between his 
almost closed eyelids he saw the man’s big frame 
bending silently over him and thus moments 
which seemed like hours passed. 

19 


20 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


The slow-thinking fugitive could not at once 
decide what he should do. He was hoping Eee 
would spring to his feet and run.- Then, pretend- 
ing to try to catch him, he would escape among 
the darker shadows before the boy could see in 
which direction he had gone. He was not de- 
ceived by the pretense of unconsciousness, as Ree 
thought, and really hoped to be saved the neces- 
sity of killing the lad or of knocking him sense- 
less, to a certainty, lest such a blow might pro- 
duce death. He shuddered as he remembered 
that his hands were , probably already stained 
with blood. 

If Ellis had but known it flight was far from 
Kingdom’s thoughts. He was steadfast in his 
every purpose, to a fault, and having set out to 
capture Big Pete, the idea of running away just 
as he was face to face with the giant fellow, did 
not so much as occur to him, though he well 
knew his peril. 

‘ ‘ Scoot ! ’ ’ With sudden fury Ellis dragged 
Ree to his feet and violently pushed him as he 
spoke, expecting to see the boy dash away. 

Ree could not prevent a grim smile from 
crossing his lips as he turned quickly toward the 
giant again, realizing that the fellow had intend- 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


21 


ed to frighten him. Each moment, however, he 
looked for a deadly conflict to begin, and as he 
stood in quiet defiance, trying to determine what 
the fugitive ’s next move would be, and momen- 
tarily expecting a struggle, there was in the back- 
ground of his thoughts a vision of an unmarked, 
flower-strewn grave in a quiet church-yard. 
Strongly intertwirted with it was memory of his 
past life. But hark ! 

‘ ‘ Clockety-clack-clockety-clack ! ” It was the 
sound of horses’ hoofs close by. The constable 
had discovered them at last. Big Pete heard the 
hoof-beats and knew he had paused too long. 

‘ ‘ Deatli to ye ! ” he cried with an oath, and 
lodged a hammer-like blow on Kingdom’s head, 
sending the lad staggering, while he swiftly took 
to his heels. 

Dazed, but still conscious, Ree sprang after 
him, shouting ‘ ‘ Come on ! ” to the party of horse- 
men now but a few rods distant, “Ellis has just 
this minute run into the woods ! ’ ’ 

For an hour the men searched for the fugi- 
tive, but in vain. He had disappeared completely 
and in the deep darkness pervading the thickly- 
grown brush and trees of the forest he eluded his 
pursuers with ease. 


22 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


In disappointment the chase was abandoned 
and attention given to capturing the escaped 
horses. This was at last accomplished, and as 
the early moon was waning, the constable and his 
volunteers turned homeward. One source of sat- 
isfaction was theirs— they had, at least, recov- 
ered the stolen team and wagon, tliough the latter 
would need many repairs before again being fit 
for service. 

Ree briefly told of his adventure as the party 
rode along. John Jerome could not withhold his 
words of regret that his horse had been too slow 
for the race, nor could he quite understand how 
the stolen team had been able to outstrip the oth- 
ers. 

“I’ll tell you how that was,” said the con- 
stable’s brother. “The nags Big Pete had was 
really runnin’ away. I guess you know how 
much faster a dog will run when he has a rattle 
tied to his tail, than when he’s jest runnin’ for 
the fun on it ! Wall, this here ’s a parallel case. ’ ’ 

Although it was nearly midnight, a small 
crowd of Curious ones was found still lingering 
about Mr. Rice’s store, anxious to learn all that 
had been done. Ree Kingdom received a large 
share of the praise for the return of the stolen 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


23 


horses. Captain Bowen was delighted over his 
behavior and would not listen to one word about 
the lost pistol. 

“ I ’ll drive over that way an ’ pick it up along 
the road somewheres in the mominV’ he said. 

‘ ‘ An ’ to-morrow night I want you to come an ’ try 
some o’ the new cider. You come too, son,” he 
added, turning to John. 

The boys thanked him heartily, for well they 
might esteem it a great favor and an honor to 
receive this invitation from the war-like old vet- 
eran. Again they inquired for the latest news of 
Jim Huson, and learning that he was likely to 
recover, set out for their homes. 

‘ ‘ I have a presentiment that we shall see Big 
Pete again,” said Ree thoughtfully. 

“Are you afraid of him?” John quietly 
asked. 

“No, I am not afraid of him, yet I would 
rather we should never meet again. But I think 
he will go west and though it is a big country, we 
might find him there. By the way, John, Capt 
Bowen is just the man to give us advice about 
our expedition. Meet me about sundown at the ’ 
old place. We will have a lot to talk about as we 
are on the way to make our call.” 


24 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


A few minutes later the boys separated. 
John going to the overcrowded little house of his 
parents ; Ree to the Henry Cateshy farm, which 
was the only home he had known since childhood. 
As he crept into bed in his attic room, and 
stretched his full length restfully on the straw- 
filled tick, again there came to him a vision of an 
unmarked grave in the quiet burying-ground, 
bringing an influence of sadness to all his 
thoughts. 

‘ ‘ Oh, mother, my memory of you is the dear- 
est thing in life, ’ ’ he softly whispered to himself, 
and his mind turned fondly to his childhood. 
Faintly he remembered his father. More vividly 
he recalled the coming of a neighbor with the 
news of his father’s death— killed by Gen. 
Howe’s troops as they advanced on Philadelphia, 
after succeeding in defeating the American sol- 
diers at Wilmington, because Gen. Washington 
was misled by false information. 

Poor Ree ! How well did he remember his 
mother’s giief, though he was too young to un- 
derstand— too care-free to grieve long or deeply 
himself. !Many times he had heard the story in 
after days, how his father and two companions 
were fired upon as they were hurrying forward 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


25 


to give notice of the enemy ’s coming ; and one of 
the three being wounded, his father would not 
leave him, though in trying to save him, his own 
life was sacrificed. It was the third man, who 
escaped, who spread the news of the bravery and 
death of the elder Return Kingdom. 

Ree did not know how long a time had 
elapsed, but it seemed a very little while after 
this sad story reached his mother that she re- 
moved with him to a newer part of Connecticut, 
where she earned a living for them both by weav- 
ing and spinning. A happy year or two slipped 
by and then— ah, well, he remembered the dreary 
day when some neighbors had taken him to see 
her whom he loved so well, buried beneath the 
elm trees, and he knew he was left alone. 

Memoiy of the bitter tears he shed came 
freshly to the boy as he recalled it all— how, in 
but a few days, he was “bound out” to Henry 
Catesby with the promise that he should have a 
home and want for nothing. 

Had he been in want? Oh, he had been sup- 
plied with food and clothing and a roof over his 
head. Could he ask more! Yes, a thousand 
times, yes ! He wanted friends, companionship, 
love. He remembered no one who had cared for 


26 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


him in those early days, except— Mary Catesby, 
his hard master’s little daughter. And she was 
still but a child when she was told to have no 
association with the “bound boy;” learning of 
which, he had steeled his proud young heart and 
had spoken to her only when necessary. 

So with work, day in and day out, save for a 
few winter weeks in school, the years had passed, 
until he made the acquaintance of John Jerome, 
the son of a distant neighbor. Too poverty-dis- 
tressed to be proud, he had known little happiness 
except a sort of sad pleasure he found in visiting 
the church-yard, where in summer he placed 
great bunches of wild flowers on the mound to 
him most sacred. 

For two years he and John had been inti- 
mate friends. The latter being sometimes em- 
ployed by Mr. Catesby, gave the boys additional 
opportunities of being with one another. Late 
at night after a long, hard day in the harvest 
fields, they had gone swimming together. They 
had borrowed a gun, and John’s money bought 
the ammunition they used in learning to shoot, 
to practice which they had risen before* sunrise ; 
for at Old Sol’s first peep the day’s work must be 
begun. Many a time they had labored all day, 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


27 


then tramped the woods all night, hunting ’coons, 
coming home in time only to catch a wink of sleep 
before jumping into their clothes and away to 
work again. 

Sometimes in winter when, by reason of 
John helping him with his work, Ree was able 
to secure a half-day off, the boys had sought other 
game, and shared the profits arising from their 
hunting and trapping. Wliat with the knowledge 
they thus picked up themselves, and the instruc- 
tion given them by Peter Piper and others, there 
were no t^vo boys in Connecticut better versed in 
woodcraft. 

Ree thought of all these things as he lay 
awake looking out through his window at the 
stars in the western sky. And as his thoughts 
ran on, he reflected on the death of Mr. Catesby a 
short eight months ago, and the great change it 
had brought into liis life. From the moment Mrs. 
Catesby had called him to go for the doctor when 
her husband was taken ill, she had depended on 
him in nearly everything. It was he who took 
charge of all the farm work of the spring and 
summer, and the neighbors had said the Catesby 
place never produced better crops. With scarce- 
ly a pause except on Sundays, he had toiled early 


28 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


and late to accomplish this. Only within the past 
few weeks when the msh of the harvest was over, 
had he allowed himself any time for recreation. 
Yet it had been a happy summer, he thought. 
Mrs. Cateshy, appreciative of his splendid ser- 
vices, had been all kindness ; Mary Cateshy had 
been agreeable as his own sister might have been. 
Both had forgotten, or at least no longer ob- 
served, the bar of social inequality which Mr. 
Cateshy had set up against the ‘ ‘ bound boy. ’ ’ 

Then in August had come Mrs. Cateshy ’s de- 
cision to remove to the city that her daughter 
might have educational advantages. It was with 
genuine regret that Bee had learned her plans. 
He would never have admitted even to himslf 
that he had, in a certain boyish, vague way, 
dreamed of a dim, distant time when he and Mary 
might be more than friends ; but maybe some such 
thought had been in his mind at some time. 
Strange it would be had nothing of the kind oc- 
curred to him. 

Thus as he lay awake still pondering on the 
past, the present and the future, in the depths 
of Bee’s heart of hearts there may have been a 
wish that he should become a successful man. 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


29 


wealthy perhaps, well-to-do certainly ; but in any 
event, looked up to and respected. 

But, oh!— What obstacles confronted him! 
How could he ever be more than a rough, unedu- 
cated “bound boy” that he was! The subject 
was not a pleasant one, but he gave it most seri- 
ous thought, and determined for the hundredth 
time, that, come what might, he would make the 
most of his opportunities and ever be able to hold 
up his head in any company. 

So his reflections passed to the future. He 
was to receive $100 for his summer’s work. He 
also had some money which he had secured in 
odd sums from time to time, safely put away in 
the chest beneath his bed. 

John Jerome had a hoard of savings, too. 
How should they best invest their joint capital 
for their proposed journey to the western wilder- 
ness, where, they planned, they would make 
homes and secure farms for themselves amid sav- 
ages and wild beasts? They must be obtaining 
this and other information at once. They would 
have learned much that very evening had not the 
man to whom they were going in quest of advice, 
been assaulted by Big Pete Ellis. And what of 
that burly giant, by the way? 


30 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


“But this will never do. I must be getting 
to sleep, ’ ’ Ree said to himself. 

Going to sleep just when one wishes, how- 
ever, is not always easy. Ree found it the very 
opposite. Tired as he was, his mind went over 
the adventure of the night, and in a round-about 
way to his future home in the wilderness, again, 
before his eyes closed. At last dreams came to 
him, and in one of them he saw Big Pete waving 
a white handkerchief as a flag of truce. He could 
not make out for whom the sign of peace was 
meant ; for a war party of Indians seemed to be 
hot on the giant’s trail, and it was in the opposite 
direction that Pete waved the handkerchief. 

Ree recalled the dream when pulling on his 
boots in the morning, and pondered over the pos- 
sibility of its having some significance. 

Many times during that day the young man 
had occasion to remember the incidents of the 
night preceding. Everyone he met, it seemed, 
had heard of his adventure with Big Pete and 
they all congratulated him. More than one, too, 
warned him against the giant Ellis, saying the 
fellow would surely seek revenge. 

Ree gave but little heed to this talk. Big 
Pete had had the chance to kill him, or at least to 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


31 


attempt it, and had not done so, evidently wishing 
to avoid blood-shed. But Peter Piper came along 
during the afternoon with a story which he had 
heard in the adjacent village, that gave the boy 
some uneasiness. Big Pete had sent word by a 
farmer he had seen at daybreak, that he would 
return to his old haunts and that not a man would 
dare to touch him; that he would not be driven 
otf, though he had killed both Jim Huson and 
Marvel Rice, and that those who had interfered 
with him would sutfer for it. 

“He’s a braggart,” said Ree contemptu- 
ously. 

“Jes’ what he says, he will do. He’s bad, 
had, bad,” said Peter Piper in his simple, earn- 
est way. 

So Ree came to look upon the matter with 
much seriousness. Somehow it occurred to him 
that the giant might seek revenge by burning the 
barn or poisoning the horses, or some such cow- 
ardly thing— he knew not what. For himself he 
was not afraid, and it is not strange that in the 
wildest flights of his lively fancy he did not for a 
moment imagine under what startling circum- 
stances he was destined to next behold the fugi- 
tive criminal. 


CHAPTER III. 


The Beginning of a Perilous Journey. 

“Hitch yer cheers up t’ the blaze; it’s a 
cool night fer September, ’ ’ said Captain Bowen, 
drawing his own splint-bottom chair toward the 
great fireplace of his homely but thoroughly com- 
fortable home, and slowly sipping new cider, just 
old enough to sparkle, from the bright pewter 
mug containing it. 

“An’ help yerselves to some more cider, 
naow dew ; I like a man to feel at home, ’ ’ he went 
on as Return Kingdom and John Jerome gave 
heed to his kindly bidding. 

“Naow as I was a sayin’,” Captain Bowen 
continued, “I r’ally kent advise yeu youngsters 
t’ undertake these plans yer minds air set on. 
The Injuns hev hated us whites worse than ever 
sence the British turned their back to ’em after 
the war was over, an’ cornin’ so soon after their 
hevin’ helped the pestiferous Redcoats so much— 
they fit fer ’em tooth an’ toe-nail as the sayin’ is, 
32 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


33 


ye know — as I was sayin’ it rankles in their 
in’ards. General Washington— peace to him— 
he’s did all he kin toward pacifyin’ ’em, an’ it 
ain’t no wonder they call him the ‘ Great Father’ ; 
but so many other men hev cheated ’em, an’ so 
many settlers air crowdin’ into their huntin’ 
graounds (het they air jist ready to lift the hair 
of any white man they catch sight on, a ’most. Ye 
air takin’ long chances, boys, I do tell ye. ’ ’ 

* ‘ We want to hear both sides of the matter, ’ ’ 
Ree answered, and Captain Bowen resumed, say- 
ing in his own slow, homely but kindly way, that 
it was into the very thick of the savages that the 
boys were planning to go. He reminded them of 
the barbarous cruelties the Indians had practiced 
as allies of the King ’s troops in the war, and told 
them briefly the story of the battle Col. Crawford 
had fought with the savages in the Ohio country, 
ending with the burning of Col. Crawford at the 
stake. 

He cautioned his young friends further of 
the hazardous nature of the journey through an 
unsettled country, a long part of the way lying 
over the Allegheny mountains. He told them of 
the cut-throats they would be likely to encounter 
—rough men, who, for adventure’s sake, had 
3 


34 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


gone into the war, and had never been satisfied 
to settle down to lives of peace and respectability 
after the close of the Revolution. As he paused 
at last, there was quiet for a minute or two. Then 
Return Kingdom said : 

“We have thought of these things. Captain, 
and maybe we are head-strong, but we are bent 
on going. There is little future for a young man 
here. I will soon have no home, and John can 
well be spared from his. All we can do, if we do 
not emigrate and secure homes of our own, is to 
hire out as farm hands, and, as you know, labor 
is not greatly in demand. And as we have said, 
we expect to go among the Indians partly as trad- 
ers. The land we shall settle upon, we expect to 
buy from them. 

“Traders who have behaved themselves 
have not had much trouble, and we hope to make 
peace with every tribe we fall in with. The truth 
is. Captain, we really have more fear of finding 
ourselves in the woods with a lot of stuff we do 
not need, taking up the room in our cart and add- 
ing to our load, while that which we should have 
will not be within reach, than we have of trouble 
with the Indians. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ People say it will be only a few years until 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


35 


all the country about the Ohio river will be set- 
tled,” put in John Jerome. 

‘ ‘ Y-a-as, land agents say that, ’ ’ smiled Cap- 
tain Bowen, “but I ain’t so sure on it. Folks kin 
still find plenty of hardships right here in Con- 
necticut ‘thout pokin’ off t’ the Ohio Valley or 
the northwest kentry. But I tell you what, 
youngsters,” he exclaimed with sudden enthu- 
siasm, “I wish I was ten years younger, I’d go 
with ye, bless me if I wouldn’t! They do bring 
tales of a marvelous kentry from the valley where 
my ol’ friend General Putnam an’ his colony set- 
tled!” 

From that moment Bee and John had smooth 
sailing so far as getting advice and information 
from Captain Bowen was concerned. Then and 
there, however, the Captain had to tell them all 
he knew about the colony of brave men who had 
founded Marietta on the Ohio river, nearly three 
years earlier. “An’ they do tell that game is 
thick there as fleas on a homeless, yaller dog, ’ ’ he 
said. 

Though he knew that his wish that he might 
accompany the boys could never be gratified. 
Captain Bowen entered into the spirit of their 
plans and hopes with whole-souled ardor. He 


36 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


took great delight in telling the boys of his own 
youth and his adventures. He seemed to grow 
young again in their presence. Many times, too, 
he told them of sixteen-year-old Jervis Cutler, 
who, as a member of General Putnam’s party, 
was the first to leap ashore and the first to cut 
down a tree in the new country whose settlement 
their enterprise had started. 

Throughout, the boys found Captain Bow- 
en’s assistance of the greatest value. He went to 
town with them and helped them make their pur- 
chases, which he took into his own home, as a cen- 
tral point of assembling, the articles bought for 
the expedition, and helped to pack them in the 
handiest and most compact manner ; and many a 
thing of value and use which he paid for with his 
own money, found its way at his hands into the 
outfit the lads were getting together. 

The route of the journey Captain Bowen also 
aided the boys in planning, and his knowledge of 
the country stood them in excellent stead. He 
prepared maps for them— home-made affairs it is 
true, and not absolutely accurate, but yet worth 
much to those who planned to cross a thinly set- 
tled country to the wilderness beyond. It was 
by the way of Braddock’s road that he advised 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


37 


the boys to go, following for the most part the 
course Gen. Putnam ’s party had taken after leav- 
ing Hartford in 1788. This party had made tlie 
trip in three months, including a long wait while 
boats were built in which to float down the Ohio 
river. 

Captain Bowen figured that Ree and John 
could make better time and reach Fort Pitt 
(Pittsburg) before November first. There they 
could probably secure passage down the river 
without difficulty. In many other ways the genial 
old man lent his aid, and the boys never went to 
him that they did not find him brimming over 
with ideas for their benefit. 

The news that Ree and John were going to 
the Ohio wilderness, and alone— soon spread 
through the surrounding country. Men who 
hitherto had scarcely noticed them, now came up 
to shake hands and advise the lads as to this or 
that, whenever tliey chanced to meet them. Oth- 
ers shook tlieir heads gloomily and lost no oppor- 
tunity to throw cold water on tlie project. The 
young people of the community talked more of 
Ree Kingdom and John Jerome going west than 
of anything else. There were envious ones who 
predicted that the boys would return a great deal 


38 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


faster than they went, or that they would not live 
to return at all. There were those of better dis- 
positions, however, who, while recognizing the 
peril of the proposed venture, hoped and prom- 
ised for the chums, all success. 

It was with one of the former that John had 
an encounter which was talked about for weeks 
afterward. Jason Hard, the cobbler, a stocky 
Englishman, thirty years old perhaps, had been 
making slighting remarks about both John and 
Ree and their plans in the presence of a small 
company of men who were at the tavern awaiting 
the coming of the stage. As John approached 
the inn someone said : 

“Now here’s young Jerome himself, just say 
to his face what you were saying behind his back, 
Jason Hard!” 

“I was sayin’ that if his father wasn’t shift- 
less, the young ’un wouldn’t need to be leavin’ 
’ome, an’ I say it again,” ejaculated the cobbler, 
with arms akimbo, standing directly in front of 
John in an insolent manner. 

“Look here! Take that back, you son of a 
Tory ; my father has worked too hard to help his 
son get a start in life, for me to stand by and hear 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


39 


such talk ! I say, take it back ! ’ ’ John bristled up 
like a porcupine. 

The insolent Englishman sprang toward him 
as though to strike him, paused a moment, then 
suddenly let fly a blow straight for the boy’s jaw. 
Most luckily John dodged in time, then with the 
agility of a cat he jumped toward the fellow and 
planted one fist just below his ear and the other 
squarely on his chin tumbling him to the ground. 

Captain Bowen, who drove up just in time 
to see the encounter, was tickled amazingly. Oth- 
ers enjoyed the exhibition almost as much, and 
gave a cheer for the boy, while the badly bruised 
cobbler stood by rubbing his head, as though he 
wondered what had occurred. 

Captain Bowen cautioned John against be- 
ing too prone to take offense, especially as he 
would soon have Indians to deal with, but he 
secretly rejoiced in the lad ’s spunk. The Captain 
drove out of his way to take John home in his 
light wagon, while he was thus advising him. 

The day of their separation was drawing 
quickly nearer, and John was spending as much 
time with his parents, brothers and sisters as he 
conveniently could Often they urged him to 
abandon his preparations, hut as it was with Be- 


40 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


turn Kingdom that he was going, neither the 
father nor mother was willing to say he must not 
go. Both felt that he would be in good hands and 
in good company. 

And Mrs. Catesby and Mary more than once, 
also, sought to dissuade Bee from emigrating. It 
was kind of them and their words of sympathy 
did Bee good, but he smiled at their fears and 
promised that he would return to assist in wel- 
coming them home from the city, if they should 
be returning when Mary’s education was com- 
pleted. 

How often Bee had cause to remember these 
promises so light-heartedly made, and the com- 
forts he was leaving behind, within a few short 
months— when days of danger and sleepless 
nights of peril came ! 

There was so much to be done that time 
passed quickly. Tlie Sunday preceding the Mon- 
day morning on which they were to start. Bee and 
J ohn went to church together, and heard the good 
old preacher make special reference to them in 
his prayer— that God would guide and protect 
the young wayfarers and that they would not for- 
get His mercy and wisdom. Every eye in the 
church was turned toward the boys, embarrass- 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


41 


ing them more than a little and making them wish 
they were safely started and well away from their 
excellent but altogether too curious friends. 

Ree went home to dinner with John, and on 
his way to the Catesby farm in the evening he 
went across the fields to the quiet church-yard. 
Under the clear, cold stars he sat beside a grassy 
mound and for an hour was quiet as the grave it- 
self. Many tender memories crept through his 
heart and in his thoughts was an unspoken 
prayer. Thus he took leave of the spot to him 
most sacred— his angel mother’s grave. 

• To his surprise Ree found Mrs. Catesby and 
Mary waiting for him in the combined sitting- 
room and kitchen, when he entered the house. 

“As you will be leaving so very early, sir, 
we thought to say good-bye to you to-night, ” said 
Mary with feigned solemnity. And a little later 
she said as they were talking, “ I do hope you will 
be as good as your name and will bring your 
scalp safely home with you when you do ‘re- 
turn’ ” 

Ree laughed and promised he would do so, 
but he blushed, and seeing which, Mary Catesby 
did the same, and looked her very prettiest. 

“We shall think of you often. Return, and 


42 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


maybe you will be able sometimes to send us a 
letter. We shall be glad to hear from you, and 
oh, my boy, be careful— careful in all things,” 
Mrs. Catesby said. 

There were more teasing words from Mary, 
and more advice and real tears, from Mrs. Cates- 
by and her daughter, too, before the final good- 
byes were said at last. 

* * m * * 

The late September sun spread a soft, warm 
haze over old Connecticut. A great, two-wheeled, 
canvas-covered cart lumbered slowly along the 
country road. Walking beside the one large horse 
which drew the vehicle, was Return Kingdom, 
his battered beaver hat on the back of his head, a 
smile of buoyant hope upon his lips. Sitting on 
a chest, his feet hanging over the front of the 
wagon box, his back against a bundle of blankets 
which made a fine cushion, was John Jerome. 
Joy in living and satisfaction with himself and 
all mankind were written in every line of his 
face. It was eight o ’clock of a Monday morning. 
Two hours earlier the long journey toward the 
unknown Northwest had begun. 

‘ ‘ Why, ye ’r in a terrible hurry, youngsters ! 
Thought I ’d never ketch ye 1 ” 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


43 


It was Captain Bowen who called out, driv- 
ing his spirited team alongside of the emigrant 
wagon as he did so. 

‘ ‘ After ye ’d gone, it come to me all of a sud- 
den that ye'd stand a chance of meetin’ an old 
friend of mine. He is an Iroquois Injun of the 
Mohawk tribe an’ his name is High Horse. Gen-> 
eral Putnam gave him this knife fer doin’ some 
thin’ or other one time, an’ High Horse gave it 
to me ’cause I shared powder an’ bullets with 
him when he was out, an ’ durin ’ the war at that. 
Seems t’ me naow, tew, that I pulled him 
through some sick spell or somethin’. Any haow 
he give me the knife. If ye see him tell him ye 
know me. I heerd that he was livin’ up some 
crick emptyin ’ into the Ohio. ’ ’ 

Almost before the boys could thank the Cap- 
tain he had turned and was gone, having thrown 
a long-bladed knife with a curiously carved ivory 
handle— a relic of some Dutch trader perhaps— 
to Ree. 

‘ ‘ I say ! Maybe ye didn ’t hear as haow Jim 
Huson was able to git about t ’day ! Ye ’ll be hun- 
gry enough fer news I was thinkin ’, before ye air 
back agin ! ’ ’ 

John waved his old cap and Ree shouted 


44 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


their thanks again, but if Captain Bowen heard 
he gave no heed ; at least he did not look back. 

At noon a halt was made at the roadside, 
close to a running brook, while the horse was fed 
and watered and the boys ate their lunch. They 
would not have exchanged places with a prince, 
now that they felt themselves fairly launched 
upon their long-talked-of enterprise. Their 
hopes were unblemished by any unhappy circum- 
stance and the fine weather was as a tonic to their 
already lively spirits. They carefully examined 
their goods and wagon to see that all was in 
proper order before starting on, resolving to be 
attentive to every detail and let no mishap come 
to them through carelessness. On the road, too, 
they exercised care, remembering that a steady 
gait and not too fast, was necessary. And so the 
first day of their journey was passed most pleas- 
antly. 

For the novelty of it the boys camped out 
the first night, beneath a clump of beech trees, 
and no two young men ever more fully enjoyed a 
camp-fire ’s cheerful blaze. 

Another and another day passed. It was in 
the afternoon of the fourth day of the journey 
that Jolm stopped whistling “Yanked Doodle’^ 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


45 


to inquire of his companion who was taking his 
turn riding on the box : 

“Ree, do you know much about this Eagle 
tavern where we are to stop to-night ? I just hap- 
pened to remember a story that was told in war 
time, that the house was haunted. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Haunted by Redcoat spies, I guess, ’ ’ Ree 
answered. ‘ ‘ The whole kit of them there at that 
time were the worst kind of Tories at heart, I 
have heard folks say, and Captain Bowen said 
something about it, too, you remember? But I 
guess they are all right now— got on the right 
side of the fence after the war was over.” 

‘‘I don’t mind Indians or wild animals— 
fact is, I’m just hankering to kill a bear, but I 
don’t want anything to do with spooks or witches 
or anything of that sort,” returned John. “I’ll 
keep my eyes wide open for ghosts and robbers 
if we stay at the Eagle, at any rate.” 

‘ ‘ There is probably more reason to be afraid 
of bed-bugs,” laughed Ree. “I don’t believe 
the Eagle is so very bad a place or Captain 
Bowen would not have marked it as a stopping 
place. There was a man robbed and murdered 
there, it is true; but that was years ago, and 
needn’t worry us.” 


46 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


So with talk of their journey and the prog- 
ress they hoped to make in view of the necessity 
of reaching the wilderness before winter set in 
severely, the lads whiled away the time. It was 
nearly sun-down when, passing through a woods 
which skirted both sides of the road, they found 
the Eagle tavern in view. 

“See any spooks about?” asked Eee with a 
smile. 

“No,” said John quite seriously, “but I did 
see a mighty wicked looking man peeking out of 
the window of the barn across the road from the 
tavern there, just now. He seemed to be want- 
ing to find out who we were and what sort of an 
outfit we had, without being seen by us. With- 
out joking, Eee, I tell you I don’t like it I” 


CHAPTER IV. 


The Man Under the Bed. 

The Eagle tavern was a long, low structure 
and stood close beside the highway, on the oppo- 
site side of which was the weather-beaten log and 
frame barn to which John had referred. Near 
the tavern was a well and an old-fashioned sweep 
towering above it. At the roadside there was 
a moss-covered log trough at which horses were 
watered. An air of loneliness, such as is 
noticed about old, deserted houses, whose door- 
yards have grown up to rank weeds and briars, 
hung over the tavern, and the deep shadows 
cast by the setting sun heightened this effect. 
Little wonder is it that a feeling of depression 
came over the young travelers as they ap- 
proached. 

No other houses were near the tavern and 
guests were evidently few.- The road which 
passed it, was not a main thoroughfare, and no 
stage-coach made the Eagle a regular stopping- 
place. It may have been a handsome, much-fre- 
47 


48 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


quented place at one time, but those days had 
long since departed. 

Up to the watering- trough Ree drove, how- 
ever, and unreined the horse, that it might drink. 

‘‘It does look kind of creepy around here,’’ 
he remarked in an undertone ; ‘ ‘ but put on a bold 
front, John, we are going to stay, just to prove 
to ourselves that we are not afraid. ’ ’ 

“I would a great deal rather camp out,” 
John frankly confessed, “but you are the cap- 
tain, Ree. I can stand it if you can. ’ ’ 

A skulking fellow of about thirty years, none 
the handsomer for having lost nearly all his front 
teeth, came to help put up their horse when the 
boys had made their wants known inside the 
tavern. No unusual thing occurred, however, 
and the young travelers had shaken oif the 
gloomy feelings which the lonely place inspired 
by the time their supper was ready. As they 
were by themselves at the table, a man whom Ree 
had not seen before approached and took a chair 
nearby, tilting back against the wall and calmly 
surveying them. 

John kicked Ree’s shins under the table. It 
was not, perhaps, a polite way of imparting the 
information that this was the fellow he had seen 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


49 


peering out of the bam, but Ree understood per- 
fectly. 

Having eyed the boys for a minute or two, 
the stranger said, in a gruff, indilferent tone 

‘ ‘ Good evenin ’ 

“Good evening, sir,” spoke Ree, and John’s 
voice repeated the words like an echo. 

“Traveled far?” growled the stranger. 

“Far enough for one day,” Ree answered, 
little inclined to engage in conversation with the 
man, for the fellow’s appearance was far from 
favorable. The sneaking glance of his eyes; his 
unshaved face and uncouth dress, half civilized, 
half barbarian, gave him an air of lawlessness, 
though except for these things he might have 
been considered handsome. 

For a minute the stranger did not speak, and 
John suppresed a laugh as he saw with what 
cool unconcern Ree returned the fellow’s stare 
whenever he looked at them. 

“Don’t show off your smartness, bub,” 
sharply spoke the man at last, as he fully com- 
prehended that Ree had purposely given him 
an evasive answer, “I asked a civil enough ques- 
tion.” 


4 


50 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


“And got a civil answer,” Ree quickly re- 
plied. 

“I see you are emigrating,” the stranger 
went on, trying to make his coarse voice sound 
friendly. “I just had in mind puttin’ a flea in 
your ear. Because it is the wrong time of year 
to he goin’ west, in the first place, and the woods 
are full of Indians and the roads alive with cut- 
throats, in the second place. If I was you young 
shavers I’d sell out and wait a year or two, or till 
next spring anyhow, before goin’ any further. I 
s ’pose you have a lot of goods in your cart ; goin ’ 
to do some tradin ’ with the Mingoes, maybe. ’ ’ 

John pricked up his ears at this reference to 
the nature of their cart’s contents, but waited for 
Ree to speak. This the latter did at once, re- 
spectfully but firmly. 

“We are much obliged for your advice and 
the interest you take in us, but we expect to be 
able to take care of ourselves both on the road 
and in the woods. Aren’t you the man we saw 
in the bam as we were coming up?” 

The question was an experimental thrust. 
Ree wished to learn whether the fellow would 
give a reason for having spied upon them. The 
man looked at him searchingly before replying. 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


51 


“I never clapped eyes on you till you come 
into this room, ’ ’ he coolly said, however. ‘ ‘ What 
do you take me for? I was only goin’ to tell you 
that I know a man that will buy your outfit if 
you want to sell!” 

‘ ‘ Which we do not, ’ ’ said Ree with moderate 
emphasis. 

“You would find a little ready money 
mighty handy; I don’t s’pose you have any too 
much, ’ ’ the stranger replied with assumed care- 
lessness. 

‘ ‘ Say ; tell us what you are trying to get at, 
will you?” John spoke up, with a show of spirit. 

“Hold your horses, sonny!” the fellow 
growled. “You are almost too big for your 
breeches!” 

“Well what do you take us for? Maybe 
you have some more questions to ask!” John 
exclaimed, and Ree smiled to see how heated he 
had become. 

The stranger relapsed into silence, and pres- 
ently arose and strolled away. 

Having finished their supper, the boys went 
into the general sitting-room of the tavern, a long 
room in one end of which there was a bar, and 
sat down by themselves to talk. As their con- 


52 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


versation flagged, Eee drew from liis belt be- 
neath bis coat, the ivory handled knife Captain 
Bowen had been at such pains to give them. In 
an idle, listless way he began stropping the blade 
on his boot-leg. 

A tall, lank man of fifty, with a thin, sharp 
face and nose, whom the lads had noticed sitting 
opposite them, reading a pamphlet of some kind, 
came nearer and seemed to take an unusual in- 
terest in the sharpening of the knife. His keen 
eyes watched every movement the blade made. 
Coming close up, he quietly said: 

“If that ar ain’t Cap. Bowen’s knife over 
to Bruceville, he hes the mate to it! His’n is 
the only knife I ever see with a handle like 
that. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Do you know Captain Bowen 1 ’ ’ asked Ree, 
and as the man said he did, and told them who 
he was, both lads held out their hands which the 
newcomer shook cordially. It was like meeting 
someone from home; for the lanky individual 
was a peddler who had often visited at Captain 
Bowen’s house and knew many of their friends. 

As they talked further the peddler said, 
sinking his voice to an undertone, “I want yeow 
youngsters to hev some advice; it won’t cost ye 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


53 


nothin’, an’ it may save ye a heap of trouble. 
There’s a bad ’un stayin’ at this old tavern, an’ 
he ’s likely to want yeow boys to pay fer his rum. 
Naow, he won’t ask ye fer money, but be all-fired 
keerful that he don’t git it from ye anyhow. 
Jes sleep with one eye open, an’ hev a hick’ry 
club handy t’ yer bed.” 

Ree told the peddler of their conversation 
with the stranger at the table, and as he described 
the fellow, their new friend said : 

“He ar the one, an’ him an’ the hos’ler here 
are bad ’uns.” 

As the hour grew late Ree and John went to 
the barn to see that their cart and horse had been 
properly cared for, and returning, went imme- 
diately to bed. For half an hour they lay awake 
talking of their journey. Their money was be- 
tween them in the big four-poster and each had 
a pistol within reach. At last they said ‘ ‘ Good 
night” to one another, and settling themselves 
in comfortable positions, composed themselves to 
sleep. 

All had grown quiet about the old tavern. 
The ticking of the big clock down stairs, and the 
baying of a hound otf in the woods somewhere, 
were the only sounds which reached the ears of 


54 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


the young emigrants. And thus they forgot 
their travels and where they were, and the dan- 
ger which hovered near. 

It was sometime after midnight when Ree 
was suddenly awakened. He had heard no 
sound, nor could he tell what had disturbed his 
slumber; but he had instantly found himself, 
eyes wide open, every sense alert. Without the 
slightest noise or movement he lay listening. A 
minute later he felt for just an instant the touch 
of something cold against his skin. 

‘ ‘ A snake, ’ ’ was his first thought, and a lit- 
tle thrill of horror crossed him as the idea of a 
reptile being in their bed, flashed over his brain. 
Again he felt the touch, cold and clammy against 
his side; and, intending to grab the serpent, if 
such it was, and hurl it from the bed, with a 
quick movement of his arm he made a desperate 
grab. He caught and for but an instant held a 
human hand, large and coarse. 

‘‘.John!” Ree spoke the name with startled 
emphasis, and its owner rose up in bed like a 
flash. 

“What? What is it?” 

“There is some one in this room! He has 
been reaching into the bed, trying to rob us. ’ ’ 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


55 


As he spoke Ree sprang out upon the floor. 
“And here’s the window open! That shows 
where he came in. Get your pistol and he ready 
to fire if he tries to jump out. I am going to 
skirmish for the rascal ! ’ ’ 

Faint rays of moonlight made the room not 
entirely dark, but Ree could see no sign of the 
intruder as he stepped softly to the middle of the 
floor. It was a useless action; for, as he was 
between the three dark walls and the window in 
the outer wall, the robber could easily see him 
without being seen himself. It was a fault of 
Return Kingdom’s that he did not properly con- 
sider his own safety, and the wonder is that he 
did not in this instance become the target for a 
bullet 

“I’d better yell for help,” suggested John. 

“You’d better not!” said Ree emphatically, 
peering into the dark comers. ‘ ‘ I cannot be mis- 
taken, but if I should be— well we don’t care to 
be laughed at” 

Not a sound was heard as both boys re- 
mained perfectly quiet Then on tip-toe Ree 
went to all the corners of the room, his left hand 
outstretched before him while his right held a 
pistol ready for instant use, 


56 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


“ John, did you sneeze?” he demanded as a 
smothered ‘ ‘ kerchoo ’ ’ came from the direction of 
his friend. 

“ He ’s under the bed, Ree ! He ’s under the 
bed I Call help ! ’ ’ This was J ohn ’s answer and 
his tone was sharp with excitement. 

In a trice Ree was at the foot of the bed and 
looking beneath it. A dark object there moved 
slightly. 

“Come out of that!” Ree sternly demanded, 
and the click of his pistol as he cocked the 
weapon sounded loud and clear. At the same 
moment the object beneath the four-poster began 
to crawl and soon coming forth, stood erect— the 
stranger the boys had met at supper. 

“Oh, it’s you, is it?” ejaculated Ree with 
an inflection of contempt in his voice; but the 
next instant the intruder’s hands were about his 
throat. 

‘ ‘ Help ! Help 1 ’ ’ yelled J ohn J erome. 

Finding the young man he had seized, a 
much harder problem than he was prepared to 
handle, and frightened by John’s cries, the 
stranger gave Ree a shove and sprang toward 
the window. 

‘ ‘ Help ! Robbers i ’ ’ yelled J ohn again, and 



w 








f 

■ 


* - 

t 





3 




M. >■ 

liikfir — "* 



-1 




i 



^ !• 



For a second they both balanced on the window-sill at the 
verj' verge of falling 



FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


57 


now the stranger had one leg out of the window. 
But he got no further. Ree seized hi m about 
the body ; the robber seized him in turn, and his 
foot striking the ladder by which he had climbed 
up, it went tumbling to the ground. With a 
frightful oath the fellow endeavored to throw 
Ree after it. For a second they both balanced on 
the window sill at the very verge of falling. 
Then John seized the robber’s hair, and dealt 
him a blow with the butt of his pistol. He raised 
the weapon to strike again, but Ree had now 
secured his release from the villain’s grasp and 
fired at him just as the fellow plunged to the 
ground, leaving a bunch of his black hair quiver- 
ing in John’s hand. 

The bullet took effect, for the boys found 
blood on the ground beneath the window next 
morning ; but the robber dashed around a comer 
out of range at such speed that there was no op- 
portunity 10 fire a second time. 

A pounding on the door told the youthful 
travelers that the house had been aroused, and 
they lost no time in admitting the landlord, ac- 
companied by the greatly excited peddler. 

“What’s all the row about?” demanded the 


58 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


tavern-keeper, holding a lighted candle over his 
shoulder. 

want to investigate before I say what it 
is all about,” Eee answered, emphasizing the 
“all.” 

‘ ‘ A pretty sort of a place, this is ? ” put in 
John indignantly. “We might have been mur- 
dered in our beds!” 

“How can I help it, boy? Just you keep 
your breeches on I ” 

“I’ll have to put them on first,” John 
ejaculated, and forthwith proceeded to do so. 

Ree took the landlord’s candle and turned 
back tlie bed clothing. He found the leather 
wallet containing their money, undisturbed, but 
as he picked it up, he noticed a hole in the sheets 
and tick of the bed. 

“Look, here,” he exclaimed, “here is where 
^the row you complain of, began. The man who 
has just gone out of the window, evidently 
crawled under tlie bed and having cut a hole 
through the tick, reached for our wallet. His 
cold hand on my bare skin waked me up. The 
question is, how did he know where the money 
was?” 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


59 


“The skunk!” exclaimed the peddler, eye- 
ing the tavern-keeper sharply. 

“How should I know anything about it?” 
the landlord hotly responded. “I ain’t respon- 
sible for there being robbers about, am If” 

Eee had joined John in the task of dressing, 
while the proprietor of the establishment sat on 
the bed, the least concerned of any, over what 
had taken place. 

“Haow should yeow know anythin’ about 
itf” cried the peddler suddenly turning toward 
the man. “Why, yeow ain’t even asked who the 
thief was ! Yeow wouldn ’t ’a come up stairs if 
I hadn ’t ’most dragged ye ! It looks consamed 
strange, that’s what I say! An’ yeow settin’ 
there like a stick, sayin’, ‘Haow kin I help it!’ ” 
The landlord winced and squirmed, and was 
glad enough to hurry down stairs when Eee said 
authoritatively : “Now let’s have no further talk 
about this matter, but get our breakfasts at once, 
if you please. It will soon be daylight.” 

“Eee Kingdom, you make me mad!” cried 
John Jerome, as the landlord disappeared. 
“Why didn’t you let me crack that old villain on 
the head? If I didn’t know that you are the 
only one here who has kept cool, I’d be mad in 


60 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


earnest. If any of our goods have been dis- 
turbed, I’ll show the old Tory!” 

Eee smiled at his friend’s blustering tone, 
but the peddler slapped him on the back and told 
him he was a “reg-lar man-o’-war with flags 
a-flyin ’. ’ ’ 

The gray glimmer of dawn was in sight as 
the boys crossed the road to the bam and by the 
light of the tallow candle in the old-time lan- 
tern, inspected their cart and horse. All was 
secure. Recognizing his young masters by the 
fine instinct some animals have, Jerry, their 
horse, whinnied loudly, as though saying he was 
all right but ready to move as soon as convenient. 
Hay and grain were given the faithful animal, 
and the boys went in to their own breakfast. 

The meal of potatoes and bacon was soon 
disposed of, the peddler sitting at the table with 
them. He was going in their direction for a 
mile or two and would accompany the lads, he 
said. 

“We’ll be glad to have you,” Ree answered. 

“Whatever Ree Kingdom says, I say— only 
he always gets the words out first,” said John. 
“I am like the old trapper who came hurrying 
up to General Washington saying he could lick 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


61 


all the Red-coats on earth with one hand tied 
behind his back. But the war was all over then, 
though he did not know it, and so he didn’t get 
a chance to try. He meant well, you see, but was 
a little behind hand. ’ ’ 

“That’s a pert yarn,” smilea the peddler, 
“an’ there ain’t nobody gladder than I be tew 
see yeow so chipper; but I swan, lads, I only 
hope ye’ll be as jolly as ye be naow, come six 
months— I only hope ye will be!” 


CHAPTEE V. 


A Mysterious Shot in the Darkness. 

“ I AM going to keep my eyes open for that 
cut-throat that was under the bed. There’s no 
telling what he might not do,” said John with 
quiet determination, to Eee, when the peddler 
had left them and they were fairly under way for 
the journey of another day. 

“I have thought of that,” Eee answered, 
‘‘and you see I have put the rifles where they 
will be handy. There is no use of carrying 
them, I guess, but the time is coming when they 
must always be within reach.” 

The peddler had accompanied the boys to a 
cross-roads a couple of miles from the Eagle 
tavern, enlivening them with many odd tales of 
his experiences. Now they were alone again, 
and as the country through which they passed 
became rougher and wilder, the lads realized 
more fully than ever that theirs was a serious 
undertaking. 

Yet they were happy. The trees were put- 
62 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


63 


ting on bright colors ; the air was fragrant with 
the odor of autumn vegetation. The water in 
every stream they crossed was fresh and clear, 
and fall rains had made green the woodland 
clearings. Quail called musically from time to 
time, and once the “ Kee-kee-keow-kee-kee ” of a 
wild turkey was heard. 

At noon, beside a dashing brook which 
tumbled itself over a stony bed as though in glee 
with its own noisiness, the travelers halted. They 
unhitched Jerry that he might graze, and kindled 
a fire to boil some eggs. These with brown 
bread, a generous supply of which Mrs. Catesby 
had given them, and ginger cake which Mary 
Catesby had announced she had made with her 
own hands, made a meal which anyone might 
have relished. To the boys, their appetites 
sharpened by the fine air, every morsel they put 
between their lips seemed delicious. 

“We won’t long have such fare,” they re- 
minded one another. 

“We will have venison three times a day 
though,” said John. 

“Yes, we will have so much meat we will 
be good and tired of it ; because we must be sav- 
ing of our meal this winter, and until our own 
corn grows,” Kee answered thoughtfully. 


64 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


“Well, don’t be so melancholy about it, Old 
Sobersides,” cried John. “Why, for my part, 
I could just yell for the joy of it when I think 
how snug we will be in our cabin this winter! 
And what a fine time we are going to have choos- 
ing a location and building our log house 1 ’ ’ 

“That, as I have so often said,” Ree an- 
swered, “is the one thing about our whole ven- 
ture that I do not like. We will be ‘squatters.’ 
We won ’t own the land we settle upon except that 
we shall have bought it of the Indians ; and that 
is a deed which the government will not recog- 
nize. But we will have to take our chances of 
making our title good when the time comes, 
though we may have to pay a second time to the 
men or company, or whoever secures from the 
government the territory where we shall be. Or 
we might settle near enough to General Put- 
nam ’s colony to be able to buy land of them. We 
must wait and see what is best to do.” 

“Bee,” said John, earnestly, “I know you 
are right; you always are. But I don’t like to 
think of those things— only of the hunting and 
trapping and fixing up our place, and eating wild 
turkey and other good things before our big 
fire-place in winter— and all that. You see we 


PAST THE FRONTIER. 


65 


will have to sort of balance each other. You 
furnish the brains, and I ’ll do the work. ’ ’ 

“Oh that sounds grand, hut—” Ree 
laughed and left the sentence unfinished. 

When, by the sun, their only time-piece, the 
hoys judged they had been an hour and a half in 
camp, they resumed their journey. They had 
secured so early a start that morning, that they 
had no doubt they would reach the Three Cor- 
ners, the next stopping-place designated on Cap- 
tain Bowen’s map, before night; and indeed it 
lacked a half hour of sundown when they drove 
up to the homely hut pleasant tavern at that 
point. It was so different a place from the Eagle 
tavern that the boys had no fear when they went 
to bed, that the unpleasant experience of the 
night before would be repeated. 

Several days followed unmarked by any 
special incident, except that the lads were de- 
layed and a part of their goods badly shaken up 
by their cart upsetting into a little gully. For- 
tunately, however, little damage was done. 

At the end of two weeks so thinly settled a 
country had been reached that nearly every night 
was spent in camp. Yet these were not disagree- 
able nor was there much danger. Only one man 
5 


66 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


who answered the general description of a “ cut- 
throat” had been seen, and he seemed inclined to 
make little trouble. He rode out on a jet black 
horse from a barn, near which a house had at one 
time stood, its site still marked by charred logs 
and a chimney. Perhaps it had been burned in 
the war-time; at any rate the place had a for- 
saken, disagreeable appearance, and the rough- 
looking stranger emerging suddenly from the 
barn, put the young emigrants on their guard at 
once. 

For two hours the man rode in company 
with the boys, and finding out who they were, 
proposed to spend the night with them. Eee 
would have permitted it, but by his actions J ohn 
so plainly gave the fellow to understand what 
he thought of him, that the stranger at last rode 
back in the direction he had come, cursing John 
for the opinions which the latter had expressed. 
The boys slept with “one eye open” that night. 

Daily the road became worse and worse. 
For great distances it was bordered on both sides 
by forests and the country was rough and broken. 
There were wild animals and, undoubtedly, In- 
dians not far away, but the settlements were yet 
too near for the young travelers to have much 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


67 


fear. So ■when their camp fire had burned low 
in the evening, they piled on large sticks of wood, 
put their feet to the blaze, and, wrapped in their 
blankets, slept splendidly. One night when it 
rained— and the water came do-wn in torrents— 
they made their bed inside the cart; but if the 
weather was pleasant they preferred to be beside 
the glo-wing coals. 

An adventure which had an important bear- 
ing on the future, befell the boys early in the 
fourth week of their travels. They had resolved 
to be saving of their ammunition, and wasted no 
powder in killing game for which they had no 
use, though they twice saw wild turkeys and once 
a bear, as they left civilization farther and far- 
ther behind. But when provisions from home 
began to run low, it happened, as so often it does, 
that when they felt the need of game to replenish 
their larder they chanced upon scarcely any. 

‘ ‘ One of us must go through the woods, keep- 
ing in line with the road, and shoot something 
or other this afternoon, ’ ’ said Ree, at dinner one 
day. * ‘ The other will not be far away when he 
returns to the road again.” 

“Which?” John smiled. 

“I don’t care. You go this time and I -will 


68 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


try my luck another day, ’ ’ Ree answered. ‘ ‘ Get 
a couple of turkeys, if you can, old boy ; or, if you 
can get a deer, the weather is cool and the meat 
will keep.” 

So John set off, planning to work his way 
into the woods gradually and then follow the gen- 
eral direction of the road and come out upon it 
sometime before sun-set. He waved his hand to 
Ree, a smile on his happy freckled face as he dis- 
appeared amid the timber. 

Slowly old Jerry plodded on; slowly the 
miles slipped to the rear ; slowly the time passed. 
Ree thought of many things during the afternoon 
and planned how he and John should spend the 
winter hunting and trapping and secure, he 
hoped, a large quantity of furs. Two chests 
they had were filled with goods for trade with the 
Indians, also, and they would receive skins in 
return. These wohld add greatly to the store 
they themselves accumulated, and they should 
realize a considerable sum when they came to 
market them. Ree hoped so. It was no part of 
his plan to go into the forest fastnesses merely to 
hunt and trap and lead a rough life. No, in- 
deed! He wished to make a home, to grow up 
with the country and “be somebody.” 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


69 


Lower and lower the sun sank behind the 
darkness of the trees which seemed to rise sky- 
ward in the western horizon, and as the early 
October twilight approached, Ree began to watch 
for John’s coming. He had listened from time 
to time but had heard no gun discharged, and he 
laughed to himself as he thought what John’s 
chagrin would be if he were obliged to come into 
camp empty-handed. And when Old Sol slipped 
out of sight and his chum had not appeared, he 
inwardly commented: “You went farther into 
the woods than was good for you, my boy! I 
suspect I have already left you a good ways be- 
hind.” 

So he drove to a little knoll beneath an old 
oak, and' unhitched. He Idndled a fire, then 
busied himself straightening up some of the 
boxes and bundles which had slipped from posi- 
tion during the day, often stopping to look back 
along the trail in hope of seeing John ; and when 
the darkness had become so dense he could see 
but a few rods from the camp-fire and still his 
chum was missing, alarm invaded Ree’s 
thoughts. He could not imagine what detained 
the boy. But he toasted some bread and broiled 
some bacon for his supper. 


70 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


A sense of loneliness over his solitary meal 
added to Ree’s anxiety, because of John’s non- 
appearance, and presently he walked back along 
the road a considerable distance, whistling the 
call they had adopted years before. The dark- 
ness gave every object an unnatural, lifelike look ; 
bushes and tree trunks assumed fantastic 
shapes. No human habitation was within miles 
of the spot, and as the echoes of the whistling 
died away and no answer came, Ree was almost 
frightened. Not for himself but on John’s ac- 
count was he conscious of a gloomy foreboding 
in all his thoughts. What should he do if the 
boy had fallen a victim of some bear, perhaps, 
or lawless men. 

Slowly he retraced his steps to the camp- 
fire’s light. Weighing the whole question care- 
fully, however, as to whether he had not better 
go in search of his friend, he decided he could 
do no wiser thing than to remain where he was 
until daylight; then if John had not arrived, he 
would set out to find him. 

Piling more wood on the fire that the light 
might help to guide John to camp, the lonely boy 
wrapped a blanket about his shoulders and sat 
down, resolved to remain awake to watch and 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


71 


listen. He heard only the soughing wind and 
old Jerry nibbling the short grass nearby, and 
the hooting of an owl in the forest gloom. Thus 
an hour passed, and then suddenly a sound of 
soft footsteps broke upon the boy’s ear. Was it 
John slipping up stealthily to try to scare him? 
Eee thought it was, but in another instant he de- 
tected the foot-falls of more than one person, and 
sprang to his feet. 

“How!” The word was spoken in a deep 
guttural tone almost before Ree had time to face 
about. At the same moment he saw two Indians 
stalking toward him. 

“Howdy!” Ree promptly answered, though 
filled with misgiving ; for at a glance he saw that 
the savages were fully armed. One was of mid- 
dle age, tall and stately as a king. The other 
was much younger. As they came within reach 
Ree held out his hand, hut the Indian either did 
not see or refused to accept the proffered greet- 
ing. 

Nevertheless Ree spread a blanket near the 
fire and asked the savages to sit down. They 
made no reply. The older of them looked at him 
intently and gazed around in evident surprise to 
see the lad alone. The younger stepped around 
the fire and looked inquiringly into the cart. 


72 


FAR PAST THE FROMTtER. 


“I am just a trader,” said Ree, with an opeb 
frankness in his tones which even a savage must 
have appreciated. “There are two of us, hut 
my partner went hunting and has not yet come 
back. Sit down, brothers ; I have no fresh meat 
to offer you, but my friend will soon return with 
some, I hope.” 

The elder Indian seated himself saying: 
“White men steal, Indians no steal.” 

“There are good Indians and good white 
men, ’ ’ answered Ree, but he was keeping an eye 
on the younger savage, who seemed to have found 
something in the cart which interested him, for 
he slyly put his hand inside. 

“Oh, do be seated!” Ree exclaimed as he 
noticed this. There was irony in his voice which 
made the older Indian shrug his shoulders, but 
the young white man led the Indian brave, a 
chap but little older than himself, away from the 
cart. With some force he drew the buck to a 
blanket and motioned to him to sit down. 

Appearing to give the matter no further 
thought, Ree placed bacon before the Indians 
saying simply “Eat.” They drew out their 
knives and cut and broiled each a slice of the 
meat. This they ate, and it was rather remark- 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


73 


able that they did so, for Ree well knew that the 
Red-skins had no relish for food which had been 
freely salted. He therefore judged their eating 
to be a sign of friendliness, and seated himself 
quietly by the fire. 

“White man go far— goes to Ohio? Yes- 
long way— far— far. Snow comes ; hurry fast, ’ ’ 
said the older Indian. 

“Yes,” said Ree, guessing at the speaker's 
meaning. “We have a long way to go, and must 
be in our cabin before deep snow comes. ’ ’ 

“Delaware country— much game,” the In- 
dian was saying, Ree having told him whither 
they were bound, when suddenly a rifle cracked 
behind them and a bullet whistled past Ree’s ear. 
The young Indian at the opposite side of the fire, 
gasped and fell backward. 

Seizing his rifle, Ree instantly sprang away 
from the firelight. The elder redskin did like- 
wise and just as quickly. 

Who could have fired the shot? Ree trem- 
bled with dread that it had been J ohn. All was 
quiet save for the night wind rustling the leaves 
and branches overhead. There came no sound to 
indicate whose hand had sped the bullet from out 
of the forest gloom. 


74 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


A miniite passed. It seemed like ten, to 
Return Kingdom, and forgetting prudence, he 
stepped from behind the cart’s protection full 
into the campfire’s ruddy glow, making of him- 
self an easy target. He bent over the wounded 
Indian and found the blood flowing from a wound 
in the young brave’s neck. Quickly he tied his 
handkerchief about the injury, then bathed the 
fellow’s forehead and temples with water from 
the bucket he had filled at supper time. The 
older Indian crept up to watch this operation, but 
did not come fully within the lighted circle. 

“Who fired that shot, my friend?” Eee 
asked, very earnestly. 

“White men steal,” the Indian answered, 
and shook his head. 

It was evident then that the savage suspect- 
ed some white person of having made this attack 
with intent to commit robbery. Ree hoped this 
was the truth of the matter but there was a terri- 
ble suspicion growing in his mind that his own 
friend and partner, through some awful mistake, 
had fired upon the Indian. He drew the wound- 
ed man to the rear of the cart and placed him on 
a blanket beyond the campfire ’s light. The other 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


75 


savage made no move to help him, but crouched 
in the darkness intently listening, watching. 

Of a sudden the Indian’s rifle flew like a flash 
to his shoulder. At the same instant Ree heard 
John Jerome’s familiar whistle, and springing 
forward, seized the red man’s weapon in time to 
prevent the speeding of a leaden messenger of 
death to his friend’s heart. He answered John’s 
call as he did this, praying and hoping that it 
could not— must not, have been his friend who 
had fired the shot which would probably end the 
younger Indian’s life. 


CHAPTER VI. 


On Lonely Mountain Roads. 

‘‘What^s happened, Ree?” 

The tone in which John asked the question, 
satisfied Kingdom that his friend knew nothing 
of the shooting. Better than this, however, it 
satisfied the Indian who knelt silently nearby, 
still listening, that the boy he had so nearly shot, 
knew nothing of the person who had fired from 
the darkness. 

Quietly, but in tones the Indian could hear, 
Ree related what he knew of the mysterious oc- 
currence. 

“Who could it have been. Chief?” John 
asked, turning to the Red-skin and addressing 
him with the easy familiarity he used toward 
every one. 

The Indian shook his head. * ‘ Paleface, ’ ’ he 
grunted at last; “no tried to kill Indian; tried 
to kill white brother there. Black Eagle thinks 
long and knows how bullet flew. Man-that- 
shoots-from-the-dark wishes much to steal.” 


76 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


77 


Black Eagle’s theory was far from satisfy- 
ing Kee, but the Indian’s manner persuaded the 
boy that the redskin at least knew nothing of the 
attack himself. Yet both boys knew the neces- 
sity of keeping a sharp eye turned in all direc- 
tions. They could not tell positively as yet 
whether the Indians were friends or foes, nor at 
what moment an attack might be made by a hid- 
den enemy. 

“What kept you, John? I was worried,” 
Ree said in an undertone, yet taking care that 
Black Eagle should hear, lest the savage should 
suspect him of plotting. But before J ohn could 
answer, the red man, bending low, darted away 
in the darkness. 

“What’s the old chap up to?” asked John, 
startled by the Indian’s sudden movement. 

“I think he is only scouting around to see 
what he can discover; but keep your eyes and 
ears open, it has been mighty ticklish around 
here to-night.” 

As they watched and listened, John told of 
his afternoon’s experience. He had gone a long 
way into the woods without seeing any such 
game as he wished, and had about decided to con- 
tent himself with some squirrels, and return to 


78 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


the road, when he came upon a deer-lick— a pool 
of salt or brackish water, in a flat, level place, to 
which deer and other animals came to drink, or 
to lick the earth at the water’s edge to satisfy 
the craving which all animals have for salt. As 
it was then nearly sundown he determined to 
hide nearby, confident he would get a shot at a 
deer as soon as darkness came. Concealing him- 
self in some brush at the north side of the lick, 
the wind being from the south, he waited. 

Scarcely had the sun set when a fine young 
doe approached the brackish pool. One shot 
from his rifle brought the pretty animal down, 
and in a few more minutes he had secured the 
skin and best portions of the meat. Slinging 
these over his shoulder, he set out to find the road 
and Ree’s camp-fire. But he had been careless in 
keeping his bearings, and walked a long way in 
the wrong direction. When he did find the road 
at last, he knew not which way to go to find the 
camp. He secured a light, however, by flashing 
powder in his gun, and thus found the tracks of 
old J erry and the cart. He then knew which way 
to go, but traveled a couple of miles before com- 
ing within sight of the camp-fire. 

He heard a rifle shot but paid little attention 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


79 


to it, and saw nothing of any prowler, though he 
came up in the direction from which the mys- 
terious attack was made. When Ree called to 
him, he had dropped the venison and it still lay 
at the roadside a hundred yards from camp. 

“We must have an understanding with one 
another that when either of us leaves camp, he 
shall return at a given time unless something 
happens to prevent it,” said Ree; “then the 
other will know that something has happened 
and can act accordingly. I was probably not 
more than a mile away when you found that deer- 
lick. If you had let me know, it would have saved 
a lot of worry on my part. Why, I was just on 
the point of going in search of you. And as it 
was, old boy, you whistled just in time. That In- 
dian heard you coming before I did, and a little 
more—” 

“And he would have sent me to Kingdom 
come,” said John, finishing the sentence, very 
soberly. “Your watchfulness saved me, and I 
can ’t— ” 

“You better get your venison into camp,” 
Ree whispered, interrupting John’s thanks, “I’ll 
crawl over and see how that young Indian’s get- 
ting along— poor chap.” 


80 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


The wounded Eedskin was conscious as Ree 
bent over him. 

‘ ‘ Don ’t speak if it will hurt you, but if you 
can, tell me who fired that shot at you,” Ree 
urged. 

“Black Eagle come soon,” was the buck’s 
only answer ; and indeed it was but a few minutes 
until the other Indian returned. Ree met him 
and inquired calmly. “What luck. Black 
Eagle?” 

‘ ‘ Gone. Paleface robber gone. ’ ’ 

“Who was it? Where has he gone?” 

“Gone,” the savage repeated. 

“Turn in and get some sleep, John; Black 
Eagle and I will watch a while, ’ ’ said Ree. 

‘ ‘ Gone, ’ ’ growled the Indian with grufp dig- 
nity ; and wrapped himself in a blanket and was 
soon asleep. 

John likewise lay down, but Ree, resolving 
to exercise every care, remained awake through 
the whole night. Twice John awoke and wanted 
to take a turn at guard duty but each time he was 
told to go back and ‘ ‘ Cover up his head. ’ ’ Re- 
luctantly he did so. He felt that he would do 
anything in his power for Ree Kingdom, but he 
was far from guessing what Fate had in store for 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


81 


liim to do in his friend’s behalf before they 
should see Connecticut again. 

With the first light of morning Ree went re- 
connoitering hoping to find the trail of the young 
Indian’s mysterious assailant. Scarcely had he 
started when Black Eagle joined him, and in the 
road three hundred paces from the camp they 
came upon the trail together. A single man had 
approached the camp on foot— a white man it 
was certain, for he wore boots— and from behind 
a thick thorn bush had fired the shot. Then the 
trail led back along the road, but soon disappear- 
ed in the woods. 

“If North Wind die, scalp will hang here,” 
said Black Eagle, pointing to his belt. “Black 
Eagle follows trail long— even many moons, hut 
he will get the paleface scalp. ’ ’ 

What to do Ree did not quite know. He dis- 
liked to lose time in helping the Indian to find 
the man who had shot his son, yet disliked to 
leave the wounded North Wind without doing 
something for him. 

“White brothers go far; go now,” said 
Black Eagle as they returned to the camp. ^ ‘ Go 
long way off and never mind. North Wind stays 
with Black Eagle, ’ ’ the Indian added. 

6 


82 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


Eee made no objection to this arrangement. 
Reaching camp they found that John had some 
venison steaks ready. The young Indian arose 
and greeted Ree by silently shaking his hand. It 
was plain to be seen that he was suffering great- 
ly, but he said nothing and when the breakfast 
was ready he tried to eat. 

Thankful that the night of watching was 
past, Ree and John prepared to pursue their 
journey. They watered' Jerry at the little brook 
hard by and hitched him to the cart. When they 
were ready, Ree took a knife from their stock of 
goods and gave it to Black Eagle, who with 
North Wind stood looking on, saying : 

“Maybe we will never meet again, but here 
is a present which we wish you to keep. We do 
not know the enemy who fired upon us, but we 
were in danger together and whether it was your 
foe or ours, who attacked us, we would have 
fought together. Good-bye. ^ ^ 

“We journey to the fires of the Mohawks,’’ 
Black Eagle answered. “North Wind now goes 
forward but Black Eagle, his father, follows the 
trail of snake which shoots from the dark. ’ ’ 

As he spoke the Indian turned and strode 
away. North Wind followed, Ree ’s handkerchief 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


83 


still about his neck. He was really too sick to 
travel, but it is a severe wound, indeed, which 
makes an Indian unable to move when necessity 
demands it. 

For a moment the young travelers looked 
after the red men ; then a word to their horse and 
they were once more upon their way. 

It was a glorious morning. Particles of 
frost glistened on the leaves and grass and in the 
road ; a light wind set the trees and brushes rust- 
ling, a rabbit went bouncing across the path, and 
still neither boy spoke as they tramped along be- 
side the cart, Eee in advance, driving. 

“Who fired that shot?” John asked at last, 
as though speaking to himself. 

“May as well ask old Jerry, or the wind,” 
Kee answered. ‘ ‘ The same question has been on 
my mind so long I am trying to think of some- 
thing else.” 

“But I can’t help wondering,” John per- 
sisted, ” if it could have been the lone horseman 
we saw the other day. Could it have been Big 
Pete Ellis, trying to kill you. Bee? I have been 
expecting to meet that fellow. ’ ’ 

. ‘ ‘ We must keep our eyes about us, ’ ’ was the 
only reply, 


84 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


Several days passed and the mystery of the 
shot from the darkness was still unsolved. The 
boys had now reached the mountainous country 
and the nights were often cold. The days, too, 
gave promise of winter’s coming, and had it not 
been that they were hopeful of Indian summer 
weather in November the young travelers would 
have been discouraged. Their progress had not 
been so rapid as they had planned. The 
roads were too bad to permit fast traveling. In 
many places they were little better than paths 
through the woods, and though there were 
stretches of smoother going, occasionally, there 
were other spots in which fallen trees or other 
obstructions blocked the way. 

Old Jerry stood the strain of the journey 
well, and that was certainly a consolation; for 
some of their friends back in Connecticut had 
told the boys they had better stay at home, than 
attempt to make the trip with only one horse. 
Often, too, it was the case that the lads drove far 
out of their course to pass around great obstacles, 
and they eventually found that they had gone 
miles out of their true course. Many were the 
hardships they encountered, and one adventure 
which they had must he related here. 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


85 


For days at a time no human being was met 
on those lonely mountain trails and it was this 
fact which gave rise to much uneasiness when 
John one day, for just a moment caught sight of 
a rough-appearing fellow in their rear. He had 
gone back along the road to search for a bolt 
which was lost from the cart box, when he chanc- 
ed to look up and saw the strange fellow a quar- 
ter of a mile away, coming toward him. The 
man raised his rifle and sprang in among some 
trees as he caught sight of John, his movement 
being so quick that the hoy did not get a good 
look at him, and neither in going on beyond the 
spot where the fellow had been, nor in returning 
after he had found the lost bolt, did John see 
him again. 

“We must be on the watch-out constantly,’^ 
said Ree when told of the incident. “I would 
have thought nothing of it, hut for the man’s de- 
sire to hide. ’ ’ 

“Thai is what I can’t understand,” said 
John, and as he thought the matter over it added 
to a downcast feeling which had seized upon him. 
It was by his looks more than by words that he 
betrayed his low-spirited condition, then, and at 
other times, as day after day nothing save the 


86 


PAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


trees, great rocks and wooded hills and frowning 
mountain sides were seen. 

On the other hand, Bee’s quiet disposition 
seemed almost to disappear in the face of hard- 
ships and difficult obstacles. If the cart broke 
down he whistled “Yankee Doodle,” while he 
managed to mend it. If the road was especially 
rough and their progress most unpleasantly slow, 
he was certain to sing. Even Jerry could not 
fail to catch the spirit of his cheerfulness no mat- 
ter what bad luck they had, and from looking 
glum, John would change to light-heartedness 
every time. Bee ’s smile was a never failing rem- 
edy for his blues. 

“Time enough to be blue and all put out 
when you have utterly failed,” Bee exclaimed 
one day. ^ ‘ And if you only make up your mind 
to it, it is the simplest thing in the world not to 
fail. If I were the general of an army, I 
wouldn’t own up that I was whipped as long as I 
had a breath left. Now just suppose that Wash- 
ington had given up at Valley Forge ! ’ ’ 

“Well, I want to say that the chap who 
starts out west thinking he is going on a frolic, 
will be mighty badly fooled,” John answered. 
“I am learning, but it is like the Indian who be- 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


87 


lieved powder didn’t amount to much unless it 
was in a gun; so he filled his pipe with it He 
learned a heap.” 

‘ ‘ Ho, ho, pardners both I ’ ’ 

The voice came so suddenly to the young 
travelers, they started and looked around ques- 
tioningly. With a flying leap from some brush 
which bordered the road, came an odd looking 
woodsman. 

‘‘Lift my ha’r if ye ain’t the nearest bein’ 
kittens of anythin’ I’ve clapped my old goggles 
on in the emygrant line in all my born days!” 
Putting his hands to his sides the stranger laugh- 
ed uproariously. 

“Oh, it’s funny, ain’t it!” exclaimed John 
Jerome, witheringly. 

“Age is not always a sign of wisdom,” said 
Ree Kingdom in much the same tone. 

“Right ye be, lad; right ye be,” said the 
woodsman, quieting himself. “But I swan I’m 
that glad to see ye so young an’ bloomin’, both, 
that it jes does me old eyes good. Where ye 
bound fer, anyhow?” 

The speaker was tall and rugged, his age 
probably fifty years. A grizzled beard clustered 
round his face and his unkempt hair hung al- 


88 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


most to his shoulders. On his head was a ragged 
coon-skin cap. All his dress was made of skin 
or furs, in the crudest frontier fashion. He was 
not a disagreeable appearing person, neverthe- 
less, for his eyes twinkled merrily as a boy’s. 
Each in his own way, Ree and John noted these 
facts. 

‘ ‘ I might say that we are going till we stop 
and that we came from where we started, ’ ’ said 
John in answer to the stranger’s inquiry. 

^‘What a peart kitten ye he!” smiled the 
man, looking at him quizzically. 

To he honest with you, we are going to the 
Ohio country,” said Ree Kingdom, satisfied that 
the stranger wished to he friendly. 

“Ye’ve got spunk, I swan!” the fellow ex- 
claimed. “Don’t let me he keepin’ ye though; 
drive along, we kin swap talk as we’re movin’.” 

“How far do you call it to old Fort Pitt?” 
asked Riee. 

“Well, it ain’t so fer as a bird Idn fly, an’ its 
ferder than ye want to walk in a day. If ye have 
good luck ye’ll come on to Braddock’s road afore 
supper time, an’ if ye don’t have good luck, 
there’s no tellin’ when ye’ll get thar. It want 
such a great ways from here that Braddock had 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


89 


his bad luck. If he hadn’t had it— if he ’d done as 
George Washington wanted him to, he’d ’a’ got 
along like grease on a hot skillet, same as you 
youngsters. ’ ’ 

“Hear that John? We will make Fort Pitt 
in a day or two, ’ ’ cried Pee. 

‘ ‘ Yaas, it was forty odd years ago that Brad- 
dock had his bad luck when he bumped into a lot 
of Injuns in ambush. I was jest a chunk of a 
boy then, but I’ve beam tell on it, many’s the 
time, by my old gran ’sire who learned me how to 
shoot. I was a reg’lar wonder with a gun when 
I was your age, Idttens. I’ve picked up some 
since then though! See the knot-hole in that 
beech way over yonder? Waal, I’m going to put 
a bullet in the middle of it. ” 

Taking aim, tlie stranger fired. “Ye’ll find 
the bullet squar’ in the center,” he said, in a 
boastful way. 

“Shucks!” exclaimed John, who was often 
too outspoken for his own good. He raised his 
rifle and fired. ‘ ‘ There ’s another bullet right be- 
side your own, mister, ’ ’ he said. 

‘ ‘ Well I swan ! So there is ! ” called out the 
woodsman in great surprise. “But I’ll bet a 
coon-skin my tother kitten can’t do the like.” 


90 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


Like a flasli Ree’s rifle flew to his shoulder 
and he seemed to take no aim whatever ; yet the 
bullet flew true. But just an instant after he 
fired the crack of another rifle soifnded behind 
him. A leaden ball shrieked close to his head and 
a lock of his hair fell fluttering to the ground. 


CHAPTER VIL 


On Into the Wilderness. 

Great as the shock of the sudden attack and 
his narrow escape was, Ree gave only a little 
yell of surprise and anger, and ran in the direc- 
tion from which the shot had come, drawing his 
pistol as he went He found no one. Though ut- 
terly regardless of the danger he might be in by 
thus exposing himself, he made a careful search. 

‘‘Land o^ livin’, boy, ye’ll be meat for the 
redskins before ye’ve crossed the frontier, if ye 
don ’t be keerful ! ’ ’ cried the woodsman, quickly 
coming up, springing from tree to tree, and thus 
always keeping their protecting trunks between 
himself and the point from which the mysterious 
shot had been fired. “What is the varmint pep- 
perin’ away at ye so, for?” 

“I haven’t the least idea, for I don’t know 
who it is,” Ree answered. 

But he was glad the woodsman ’s frank man- 
ner left no room to suspect him of treachery, al- 
though there had been grounds for this suspicion 
91 


92 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


in the circumstance of the shot having been fired 
just as his own rifle and that of his friend had 
been discharged. 

John had remained on guard beside Jerry 
and the cart, watchful for any sign of their 
strange enemy, completely mystified by the at- 
tack. Presently he joined Ree and the hunter 
who were searching for the trail of the would-be 
assassin. Tracks were found at last (high up on 
the rocky hillside) — those of a white man, for he 
wore boots ; but they were very faint and Pee de- 
clared he would waste no time in attempting to 
follow them. 

‘ ‘ But I do believe, J ohn, ’ ’ he said, ‘ ‘ that the 
shot which wounded Northwind was intended for 
me, and the fellow who shot, then, fired again to- 
day. ’ ’ 

“You are thinking of Big Pete; I know you 
are!” John answered. “But I am sure you are 
mistaken, Eee. Why it was miles and miles 
away that North Wind was shot, and there hasn’t 
been a day since then but what we could have 
both been killed, perhaps, by some one hidden 
along the road. ’ ’ 

The woodsman, when he had heard the story, 
coincided with John’s opinion and Ree said noth- 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


93 


ing more, though he was not convinced that he 
was wrong. 

The brisk talk of the stranger turned the 
boys^ thoughts to other subjects as the journey 
was resumed. He was by no means a disagree- 
able fellow. His real name was ‘ ‘ Thomas Trout, ’ ’ 
he said, but he was everywhere known as ‘ ‘ Tom 
Fish.” He had tramped over all the hills and 
valleys for miles around and seemed to know the 
country thoroughly. He accepted the boys’ 
invitation to eat dinner with them, and gave 
a share of the pounded parched com he carried 
in a pouch at his belt, in return for venison and 
coarse corn bread, John having baked the latter 
on a flat stone beside their camp-fire, the previous 
night. 

When in the afternoon, Tom Fish left the 
boys he told them they would be likely to see him 
at Fort Pitt, and gave them many directions as 
to where they had better “put up” while at 
Pittsburgh, as he called the place, such being its 
new name at that time. 

John declared he would not sleep a wink that 
night, but remain on guard until morning. ‘ ‘ For 
we must be prudent,” he said, in a very sober 
tone, which from him sounded so funny that Kee 
laughed outright. 


94 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


And yet John was probably as prudent a 
boy as Ree ; for the latter was so almost entirely 
fearless that be rushed into danger in a way not 
prudent at all, and many severe lessons which 
be learned afterward did not make him cautious 
as be should have been. 

The night passed without one disturbing in- 
cident and the rising sun found the boys on their 
way once more; before its setting they reached 
Pittsburg. 

“Fort Pitt,” as they were accustomed to 
call the straggling hamlet, stood at the foot of 
the hills at the confluence of the Allegheny and 
Monongahela rivers. Because of its location it 
was an important place and even at the time of 
which this is written (1790) was a point much 
frequented by traders, trappers and hunters. 

It was with a feeling of awe, that Ree and 
John drove into the town, and noticed its old fort, 
its brick and log buildings and general air of 
pioneer hospitality. People stared at them, and 
some called to them in the familiar way of the 
border ; but everyone was good-natured and help- 
ful and almost before the boys knew it their horse 
had been unhitched and fed and they themselves 
were eating supper in a long, low brick building 
which served as a sort of public house. 


PAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


95 


From the first it had been the young trav- 
elers ’ intention to sell their horse and cart at Fort 
Pitt and secure passage for themselves and goods 
on some flat-boat going down the river. They 
spoke of the settlement which General Putnam 
and others had made at a place they called Mari- 
etta (still known by that name) as their destina- 
tion, and gave a general idea of their plans to the 
men who talked with them as they gathered about 
the big fire-place in the evening. They found 
they would probably be able to secure transporta- 
tion down the Ohio within a few days, in com- 
pany with a party of emigrants who had been 
building boats for the trip, expecting to go to 
Kentucky. 

When the young travelers started out next 
morning to find a purchaser for old Jerry, how- 
ever, they discovered that at that time of year, 
the demand for such property was far from 
brisk. As they walked along the main street or 
road, they chanced upon Tom Fish, who hailed 
them in his rough, but happy way, and they told 
him just how they were situated. 

“Don’t sell the nag, then; come right along 
with me. I’ll show you the way into a country 
full of Injuns and game enough to suit ye, in 


96 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


short order ; an’ ye won’t have to pay no passage 
down river. Why, there ’s jes the spot ye ’re look- 
in ’ for west o’ here— rivers an’ little lakes, an’ 
fish an’ game— no end o’ game. Good place for 
tradin’ too; Injun towns every forty rods or so.” 

The woodsman then went on to tell the hoys 
that several years earlier, a fort, known as Fort 
Laurens, had been erected on the Tuscarawas 
river, in the woods beyond Pittsburg. He was 
planning to go in that direction, for a purpose 
he did not state, and would willingly act as guide. 
He cautioned the boys, however, that there was 
little sign of a broken road for them to travel 
upon and that Fort Laurens had long been aban- 
doned because of the hostility of the savages. 
But the confidence of the young traders that they 
could make friends with the Indians, and Tom’s 
glowing accounts of the country of which he 
spoke, caused them to look with favor upon his 
proposition. 

“We will think about this matter,” said 
Ree, ‘ ‘ and let you know. You wiU be here a day 
or two?” 

‘ ‘ Yaas, a day or two, ’ ’ said Tom Fish. ‘ ‘ But 
don’t let me influence ye ; it’s mighty reesky busi- 
ness you kittens is bent on.” 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


97 


“It seems to me like a good plan,” Ree re- 
flected aloud, when he and John were alone. “If 
we went to General Putnam’s settlement we 
would still feel that we must go up the Muskin- 
gum river to reach the Indians and profitable 
trading, and would have to build a raft or buy a 
boat to carry our goods. Moreover, people here 
say that within a few years the country all about 
Pittsburg will he settled up and that land will 
become valuable. ’ ’ 

“Whatever you say suits me,” said John 
with a laugh ; and then and there Ree gave him a 
talking to for being so ready to accept the judg- 
ment of another, instead of having thoughts and 
opinions of his own. 

But one or two ridiculously low offers the 
boys received for their horse and cart, and the. 
discovery that they could not find room on the 
boat down the Ohio except at a fancy price, re- 
sulted in their decision to join Tom Fish. They 
talked all day of the subject, but when they went 
to bed that night, they knew that not for many 
months to come would they sleep again within 
the borders of civilization. 

A frosty November morning ushered in an- 
other day, and early as they were astir Ree and 
7 


98 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


John found the little town wide awake. Tom 
Fish was sky-larking all about saying good-bye 
to friends, and just a little under the influence of 
whiskey. It seemed that everybody knew him; 
and people having found out from Tom what they 
had not already found out from others, about the 
venturesome lads from Connecticut, quite an as- 
semblage gathered to wish the travelers good 
luck. 

A repeated suggestion which had been made 
to the boys was that they should abandon their 
cart and take with them only such goods as they 
could carry by using old Jerry as a pack-horse. 
It was true that for a portion of the distance they 
proposed to travel, there was a rough road, but 
beyond Fort McIntosh, at the mouth of the 
Beaver river, they would have no road but the 
rough Indian trail. But Tom Fish said he ‘ ‘ reck- 
oned old Colonel Boquet’s road was still there, 
and that they should take the cart; and they did 
so. 

Tom had joined the boys as their clumsy ve- 
hicle creaked along a muddy street, a little more 
serious than usual, because of some news he had 
heard, he said, but boastful as ever. 

‘‘I was talkin’ to a big seven-footer in the 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


99 


tavern last night,” lie said— “A feller that had a 
grudge ag’in’ me once. He never liked me till I 
threw him over a house one day;— threw him 
clean over a house. It makes me larff!” 

John laughed, too, at this, hut he said: 

Tom Fish, you weigh a good three stone (forty- 
two) more than I do, but I believe I could throw 
you in a wrestle. When we stop for dinner, I 
am going to put you on your back ! ’ ’ 

A laugh long and loud came from the 
woodsman’s throat. ^‘WFy, what a playful kit- 
ten ye be!” he exclaimed. ^‘WTiy, I could toss 
ye up in the air and ketch ye nigh a dozen times 
whilst ye were only thinkin’ of throwin’ me.” 

“I’d like to see you try it,” cried John. 

“Put aside your nonsense, you two, until 
noon, now do,” Ree laughingly urged, “and tell 
us, Tom, of that Colonel Boquet whose road we 
are to follow.” 

‘ ‘ Waal, that’s quite a yarn, ’ ’ said Tom Pish. 
“But le’ me see now; le’ me see. It was back 
when I was jes a young buck, ’long ’bout ’64, 
that this Colonel Boquet, who was a mighty de- 
cent citizen for a Frenchman, made up his mind 
to get a whack at the pesky Injuns which had 
been killin’ an’ scalpin’ an’ burnin’ an’ robbin’ 


: LofC. 


100 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


all along the border of Pennsylvania an ’ Virginia 
an’ Lord knows where all. 

“Waal, the state of Pennsylvania an’ the 
state of Virginia helped him with sojers an’ he 
mustered scouts enough so that in all he had 
nigh onto 2,000 men. He marched ’em straight 
into the woods, the whole caboodle on ’em, clear- 
in’ a road as he went, an’ takin’ along a lot o’ 
sheep an ’cows, and provender for the sojers with- 
out end. He went straight along till he come to 
the Muskingum river, an’ there he camped out, 
makin’ a show with all his men an’ pack-horses 
an’ everything, that scared the Mingoes an’ the 
Delawares half to death for fear he ’d stay right 
there an’ build a town amongst ’em. 

“They was willin’ to do most anything to 
get rid of him, an ’there was only one thing that 
he would hear to. He give ’em jes’ ten days to 
trot into his camp every prisoner they had in all 
their towns far an’ near, an’ told ’em that if 
ary a one was held back, he’d march on every 
pesky village an’ knock ’em sky high an’ bum 
’em down. 

“Waal! them Injuns was so scared, they 
commenced gettin’ their prisoners together right 
off, and they trotted two hundred on ’em up to 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


101 


the front door of Colonel Boquet’s tent inside 
them ten days. An’ there was doin’s for sartin 
then!— Pow wows among the sojers who found 
all sorts of relations that the Delawares or the 
Wyandots or the pesky Mingoes had carried off, 
an’ pow wows among the men, an’ the women an’ 
the children that was brought out o’ their cap- 
tivity like the Children of Israel. 

‘ ‘ Then Colonel Boquet marched ’em all back 
to Fort Pitt an’ he sent for me an’ told me what 
he ’d done, an ’ asked me what I thought on it. I 
was scoutin’ out of Fort Pitt then, and I jes’ 
shook his hand an’ says: ‘Colonel Boquet ye’re 
a reg’lar rip-snorter.’ ” 

“Did you ever hear of the terrible Captain 
Archer, the outlaw of war times f ’ ’ asked the fun- 
loving J ohn, inventing the name to see what Tom 
would say ; for he had his own opinion as to Col- 
onel Boquet having asked Thomas Fish what he 
thought of that Indian expedition. 

“Cap. Archer! Old Cap. Archer! Well I 
rayther guess I knew him, an’ if he ain’t forgot 
it, he carries a little lead pill out of my old steel 
bottle of Injun medicine, clean to this day. Yaas, 
many a scrimmage I had with old.Cap. Archer.” 

John was for carrying his questioning fur- 
ther, though he could hardly keep from laughing. 


102 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


but Eee shook his head, unwilling to make fun of 
one who was so kind to them. 

The travelers made excellent progress that 
morning, finding a very fair road for that rough 
country, along the river. They met occasional 
settlers and hunters and whether he knew them or 
not, Tom Fish always stopped to talk and always 
asked whether everything was quiet along the 
border. Many shook their heads, and spoke 
gloomily of the outlook for peace with the In- 
dians remaining long unbroken. 

From a couple of friendly Indians they met, 
Eee secured a quarter of venison in exchange for 
a cheap trinket, and although he accompanied 
the performance with a great deal of bragging, 
Tom did show the boys that he was a past-master 
in the art of broiling venison steaks. The fine 
dinner they had as a result, set his tongue wag- 
ging more than ever, however, and John Jerome 
was more than anxious to take some of the vanity 
out of him. 

They had camped upon a hillside sloping 
down to the river— the Ohio. The day had come 
on bright and warm as Indian summer could be, 
and John had thrown off his coat. 

“Now, Mr. Fish,’’ he said with a laugh, 
‘ ‘ You see the river down there ? I ’ve been think- 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


103 


ing there may be some one of the same name as 
yourself in that water, and IVe a mind to send 
you to visit your relations. ’ ^ 

The merry laugh of the hunter rang shrill 
and clear. 

“Be ye? Oh, be ye?” he cried, jumping to 
his feet. “If it wa’n’t fer hurtin’ ye, I’d throw 
ye clean across to yon hillside ! ’ ’ and he pointed 
to a spot nearly a mile away, across the river. 

“It’s a good thing for you there are so many 
leaves on the ground to break your fall,” John 
answered, rolling up his sleeves. 

“Don’t wrestle so much with your mouths,” 
Ree admonished them. 

‘ ‘ Why, I could handle both of ye ; come on, 
the two of ye to onc’t!” the hunter cried. 

But the next moment he found in John, 
alone, about as much of a task as he cared to un- 
dertake. For two minutes they heaved and 
tugged, John’s wiry frame seeming to be all 
around the woodsman, who was by no means 
clumsy, though he could not put him down. 
Then they broke apart and for a minute made 
feints at one another, each hoping to secure an 
advantage. 

At last the hunter’s arms shot out, his hands 
seized John’s arms so quickly, and he lifted the 


104 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


boy off bis feet and keeled him over with such 
dexterity, that the lad lay sprawling on his back 
almost before he knew what was happening. 

The glee of Tom Fish was quite ridiculous. 
He danced about and almost screamed with 
laughter. 

“It is your turn, Ree,’^ said John good-nat- 
uredly. 

“Whenever our friend is ready, Ree re- 
sponded. 

“Come on! Come on!’’ Tom cried. “Oh, 
what frisky'- Idttens ye be ! ” 

Peter Piper, the half-breed, had taught Re- 
turn Kingdom a trick or two at wrestling. And 
now he allowed the hunter to lift him off the 
ground, then he let his muscles relax, his dead 
weight falling in his opponent’s arms. Sudden- 
ly getting his feet to the ground in this way, he 
sprang against the hunter’s muscular frame with 
such rapidity of thought and motion that he was 
able by a tremendous lightning-like effort to jerk 
one of the man’s legs from under him, sending 
him down, while he, liimself, came uppermost. 

“Ye’re pretty fair,” Tom Fish muttered; 
but it was plain to be seen that something he very 
little expected had happened to him. 


CHAPTEE VIII. 


Friends or Foes? 

Tom Fish had a profound respect for Re- 
turn Kingdom from the moment the latter threw 
him; but he was no less pleasant and agreeable 
than before, and he proved himself a valuable 
friend then and in days long afterward. 

When night came, as the wind was blowing 
cold, Tom very deftly built a shelter of branches 
and small saplings. His way of bending two lit- 
tle trees down and fastening them together with 
their own branches, making of them the support 
of the “shack,” was a method Ree and John had 
never seen used and was the secret of his being 
able to “build a house” in very little time. 

It was very comfortable sitting before the 
fire, thus sheltered from the wind. Tom espe- 
cially enjoyed it for his tongue ran on at a tre- 
mendous rate as he told stories of extraordinary 
adventures. 

John urged him to tell more and more, and 
he might have gone on talking all night had not 
105 


106 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


Ree admonished him and John that they must 
turn in promptly in order to make an early start 
in the morning. Wolves were howling not far 
away, and the plaintive but terrorizing cry of a 
panther could be heard in the distance, as the lit- 
tle party lay down to sleep. No doubt the young 
emigrants thought many times before dreams 
came to them, of what the depths of the wilder- 
ness must be, if the foreboding sounds which 
reached them were a fair example of what the 
outer edge of the forest fastnesses afforded ; but 
they rested well and were early astir. 

Crossing a fine, level country, though thick- 
ly grown with great trees, on this day, the boys 
saw plainly the evidences of the road made by the 
Boquet expedition. There were the stumps of big 
and little trees and the half-decayed remnants of 
the trees which had been cut down, on both sides 
of them. Although so many years had passed 
since Col. Boquet had made this trail, the work his 
men had done made the progress of the Connecti- 
cut boys and their hunter companion faster than 
it would otherwise have been, and three days 
passed rapidly without other adventure than the 
meeting of a small party of Indians who scowled 
and passed on, and the killing of a large panther 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


107 


by Ree, the animal having terribly frightened 
old J erry by dropping from a tree squarely upon 
the faithful horse ’s back, one night. 

On the fifth day after leaving Pittsburg the 
travelers crossed a high ridge and obtained a 
glorious view of the country toward which they 
were pressing on. In the distance rivers of water 
and great oceans of tree tops, deep valleys and 
wooded hillsides were seen. 

“Ye ain’t fer from the ‘Promised Land,’ ” 
said Tom Pish, lightly, much less moved by the 
grandeur of nature’s display than were the boys. 
Then he indicated the location of a point, far be- 
yond and out of view, at which the old trail they 
were following, turned to the southwest and an 
Indian trail turned toward the northwest, leading 
on to the ‘ ‘ Sandusky Plains ’ ’ near Lake Erie. 

It was apparent that Tom had settled in his 
own mind the locality in which the boys should 
erect their cabin and make their home. He had 
their interest at heart, the lads did not doubt, but 
they were unwilling to accept his judgment abso- 
lutely. It was arranged between them, there- 
fore, that Ree should go ahead and spy out the 
lay of the land— and especially investigate the 
“lake country” of which Tom had so often 


108 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


spoken. If lie should find it all that was repre- 
sented, well and good; if not, they knew that 
along almost any of the rivers to the south and 
west of them, were fertile lands and Indian vil- 
lages which would afford that which they sought 
—crops and trade. 

And so on the morning of the fourth day 
after their having taken to the Indian trail to- 
ward the ‘‘Sandusky Plains,” the matter hav- 
ing been explained to Tom Fish, Ree left his 
friends behind. It was a perilous undertaking 
upon which he set out. They had now reached 
a wild and rugged country whose hills and val- 
leys almost swarmed with game. Deer, bears 
and wolves were abundant. Panthers, wildcats 
and smaller game were frequently seen, and In- 
dians were all about, though the party had thus 
far met but few. 

But Return Kingdom had no fear— that was 
something he did not then know. He was only 
anxious to quickly find the right place for their 
residence and to make no mistake in selecting it. 
A light snow had already fallen, making it de- 
sirable that he and John should get themselves 
settled without delay. This was his thought as 
he hurried on alone. 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


109 


Under a big beech tree Ree camped at night, 
building no fire lest it draw unwelcome guests 
toward him, but wrapping his blanket about him- 
self and sitting, not lying, on the ground, his rifle 
between his knees. Any one passing, even very 
near, would have supposed his dark figure to be 
that of an old stump, and he spent the night with 
a feeling of safety, not entirely comfortable in 
his position, but little disturbed by the snapping 
of twigs and tlie rustle of leaves which told that 
forest prowlers were near. 

Crossing a river at a shallow place next day, 
Ree mounted a hill and climbed a tall hickory 
whose upper branches rose above all other trees 
near it. 

The weather had become warm and pleasant 
again and he would be able, he knew, to obtain a 
fine view. Just what he expected to see, he had 
not thought, but the grandeur of the scene he be- 
held was magnificent. Far as he could see the 
ocean of nearly leafless treetops rose and fell in 
giant waves, broken here and there by lakes or 
rivers, he knew not which, glimpses of whose 
waters and bushy banks, he caught. Here were 
lowlands— there highlands, and through the lat- 
ter he traced for a long distance the course of 


110 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


the river he had crossed earlier in the day. Kee 
drew out a chart he had obtained at Pittsburg. 

‘‘It must be the Cuyahoga river— or Cayuga 
as some call it— and I am right in the heart of 
the lake country,” he whispered, as he steadied 
himself in the tree top. “We will build our 
cabin near the river.” 

Without more delay the boy climbed down 
and strode forward in the direction of a valley 
which he had seen two or three miles to west- 
ward. In time he came to a sloping hillside and 
looking beyond he saw a splendid stream of 
swiftly flowing water. At the foot of the hill 
was a narrow tract of about four acres almost 
bare of trees, though deep grass spoke of the 
soil’s fertility. Rising above the river was a 
large knoll sloping down to the natural clearing. 

With every sense delighted by the fine pros- 
pect, Ree ran down the hill, across the clearing 
and to the summit of the knoll or bluff. The rip- 
ple and splash of the river, the bright sunshine 
and his discovery of this ideal spot delighted 
him. 

“The very place we are looking for!” he 
exclaimed aloud. “Here is grass for Jerry, a 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


Ill 


fine clearing for the beginning of a farm— wood 
—water— game— everything ! ’ ’ 

Anxious to join his friends and tell them of 
this good fortune, Ree dashed down the blutf and 
ascended the wooded hillside opposite. Panting, 
he reached the summit and suddenly,— stopped. 

As though they had been waiting for him, 
there stood watching him a party of Indians. 
They were dressed entirely in savage costume. 
Not one wore any garment of civilization as did 
many of the savages farther east. With stolid 
composure the Redskins looked at the boy, though 
they must have wondered what the young Pale- 
face was doing, alone in the forest’s depths. 

Quickly recovering his presence of mind, 
Ree coolly stepped toward them, holding out his 
hand to one he supposed to be the chief, saying, 
‘ ‘ How, brothers ? ’ ’ 

The Indian shook his hand but did not 
speak. The same second another Indian stepped 
up and seizing Ree’s hat, put it on his own bare 
head. Another grabbed the boy’s rifle, as though 
to take it from him. 

Ree smiled, but he held firmly to his gun, 
and snatched his hat from the young brave who 
had seized it. One of the Indians now ordered 


112 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


that Ree be let alone. But this was not the one 
the hoy had taken to he the chief, and Kingdom 
quickly perceived that he had made a rather seri- 
ous mistake. But he nodded his thanks to the 
Redsldn and explained, using signs when words 
would not do, that he was a trader and that his 
friends and store of goods were not far away. 

It caused Bee some alarm, however, when 
at a signal from the chief the Indians gathered 
about in such a way as to hem him completely in. 
And this alarm was decidedly increased as he 
noticed at the chief’s belt, a white man’s scalp. 
There could be no mistaking it. 

The savages made no move to molest the boy 
further than to prevent his leaving them, but 
gave him to understand that they believed him 
to be a spy. Seeing this the boy olfered to con- 
duct them to his friends and merchandise. To 
this they agreed after some parleying and plac- 
ing Bee between two big, swarthy fellows, they 
set off in single file, suspicious, it may be, that 
he would lead them into an ambush. 

Bee gave little thought to this. He knew 
that if John and Tom had made good progress 
that he could reach them by nightfall and the sus- 
picions of the Indians would be allayed. 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


113 


It was wonderful how easily the savages fol- 
lowed Ree’s back trail, and they traveled at good 
speed. But hours passed and no sign of the 
wagon of which the lad had told them was found. 
The doubt of the Indians increased and they be- 
came ugly and impatient 

In vain Ree tried to explain that his friends 
must have been delayed, but he himself could not 
understand why no gleam of light, no smoke of 
their camp-fire, even, was visible as the day wore 
away, and soon he found that he was indeed a 
prisoner; for as the savages presently prepared* 
to go into camp, their first act was to bind the 
white boy’s hands behind him and tie his feet 
with strong ropes of bark. 

A full sense of his danger came to Ree’s 
thoughts, but he put on a bold front and emphat- 
ically objected to being tied, saying he had no 
thought of running away and that early the next 
day his statement that he was a trader would be 
found true. 

The Indians gave no heed to his indignant 
words. They built a small fire by flashing sparks 
with flint and steel, and ate their supper consist- 
ing only of pounded parched com and dried 
meat. This they shared with Ree, and though 
8 


114 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


he ate heai*tily he was thinking of other things. 
Every time he looked across the fire he could see 
the gruesome scalp at the belt of the chief of 
the party. Little wonder that he became appre- 
hensive for his safety. It would not do, however, 
he thought, to let the Indians see that he was 
worried, and he began to whistle. The savages 
gazed at him in wonder. Suddenly one young 
buck arose, stepped over to the boy and struck 
him viciously on the cheek. 

His temper instantly fired, Eee shot out his 
feet, bound together though they were, striking 
the savage full in the stomach and sending him 
headlong, partly into the fire. 

As a tremendous howl of rage arose, Ree 
forgot that he was bound— forgot that liis better 
plan would have been to keep cool. He sprang 
up, breaking the strings of bark which tied him, 
with seeming ease, and, as the enraged Indian 
rushed toward him, he dodged the club the sav- 
age brandished, and landing a tremendous blow 
on the redman’s neck with his fist, grabbed his 
rifle from the ground and sped away into the 
forest and the darkness. 

With terrific yells the Indians took up the 
pursuit. On and on Ree dashed among the 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


115 


bushes and over brush and logs, springing wild- 
ly aside at times to save himself from dashing 
out his brains against a tree — hurrying fast and 
faster, he knew not whither, his pursuers crash- 
ing after him. 

The pursued nearly always has the advan- 
tage over the pursuer. Ree found himself draw- 
ing slowly away from the Indians, who made so 
much noise themselves they could scarcely hear 
him, and suddenly halting, he crept softly away 
in another direction. Soon the savages went 
past, pell mell, certain that the boy was ahead of 
them, and the sounds of the chase died away. 

Listening intently, to be ready for the 
slightest alarm, Ree turned to go back the way 
he came. It was difficult in the darkness to do 
this, but he believed that if he could return to 
the vicinity of the Indians’ camp-fire he could 
easily get his bearings and travel without loss of 
time in the direction of his friends. The dark- 
ness seemed less intense now that he had become 
accustomed to it, but he must exercise every care. 
To step on a dry stick or to stumble and fall 
might be fatal— might mean his capture and 
death. 

Fortune favored the brave lad, for presently 


116 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


the dim light of the smoldering camp-fire came 
into view. He paused a moment, then turned 
confidently in the direction in which he thought 
John and Tom Fish must be. He had not taken 
forty steps, however, when a dark figure loomed 
up suddenly before him, and with exceeding 
quickness and quietness glided behind a tree. 

It was well indeed for Eeturn Kingdom that 
his quick eye saw this movement. Turning 
again, he ran, but instantly the dark figure dart- 
ed in pursuit. Discovering that he was in danger 
of being driven into the very arms of the Indians 
he had so recently eluded, Ree changed his tac- 
tics. Certain that but a single savage was behind 
him, he wheeled and ran toward the Indian at full 
speed. 

They were not far apart. Before the Red- 
skin had made out what the boy was doing, the 
latter had hurled himself upon him and thrown 
him to the ground. 

Fiercely the savage struggled; with tre- 
mendous energy Ree retained the upper hold, his 
grip secure on his opponent’s throat. Neither 
spoke. The Indian could not, and Ree had no 
wish to add to the noise made by their thrashing 
about among the leaves and dry twigs. He knew 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


117 


that he could kill the savage warrior but he 
dreaded to do that. It would mean trouble with 
the Indians for a long time to come, upsetting his 
most cherished plans. And yet his own life was 
in danger, and— he dared not relax his hold. 

Yet something must be done, and quickly, 
for soon the other Indians would be returning, 
and more than this he could not hold out long 
against the greater strength of his red antagonist. 
K-ee resolved, therefore, to make the Indian un- 
derstand that he did not wish to kill him, then let 
go and take his chances in a foot race. 

But at this instant, the Redskin, by a mighty 
effort raised himself partially upon his feet, se- 
cured the release of his right arm, on which Ree ’s 
knee had been, and clutched the boy ’s throat with 
a vise-like grip. Never had the venturesome 
Connecticut lad been so near death as he was at 
that moment. Steadily the Indian continued to 
gain the upper hand, and as he tightened his 
grasp on Ree’s throat the boy’s tongue seemed to 
be forced from his mouth. 

Then it was that Return Kingdom’s grim, 
unyielding determination which meant victory or 
death— a determination which, once formed, 


118 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


would have stopped for nothing though it swayed 
the earth, asserted itself. With the power of an 
unbending purpose, Eee raised to his feet, drag- 
ging the savage with him. He grasped the In- 
dian’s body and with strength most extraordi- 
nary, lifted him from the ground, then suddenly 
he cast him violently down as though the brave 
were a great stone which he wished to break. 

Astonished, bruised, exhausted, the Indian 
lay as he had fallen. The whole struggle had oc- 
cupied but a minute or two, but it had been furi- 
ous. Both the combatants were panting like 
dogs. Now was Bee’s opportunity. He stooped 
down, grasped the redman’s hand and shook it 
gently. 

“We should be brothers. I would not try to 
kill you, ’ ’ he spoke in a low, friendly way. 

The Indian made no answer. Again Bee 
shook his hand, then picked up his rifle and 
walked rapidly away. Looking back, he saw the 
savage rising to his feet and returning to the 
camp-fire. He was sure then that he had made 
a friend of an enemy. But he lost no time. There 
were but a few hours of darkness remaining to 
cover his escape while he searched for his 



He cast him violently down as though the brave were a 

great stone 


€ 




FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


119 


friends, and with every sense alert he hastened 
on, though faint and weary from the violence of 
his exertions. He felt the necessity of finding 
and giving warning to John and Tom and the 
thought kept him going. 

At last the morning came— slowly at first 
and then with a rush of light which set the crows 
a-cawing and wood-birds singing; and still the 
worn-out, lonesome boy looked in vain for his 
friends. But he wavered not for a moment, 
though ready to acknowledge himself completely 
lost, and thus, pressing on, he came soon after 
sunrise to the bank of a deep, wide ravine. He 
remembered having crossed it the day he left 
John and Tom, and soon he found a path leading 
down into the gully. 

Assuring himself by careful scrutiny that 
the coast was clear, Eee pushed through the 
bushes and trotted down the bank’s steep side; 
and in another moment came squarely upon the 
cart and the camp of his friends. . But where 
were John and Tom! Consternation filled the 
lad as he wholly failed to find them, and as he 
also discovered that the camp-fire was no fire at 
all— only a heap of dead ashes. Where was old 
Jerry, tool 


120 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


A great fear came into Ree’s heart, which 
was increased a thousand fold, as in another mo- 
ment he saw the faithful horse a few rods away 
—dead. There was a bullet hole in the gentle, 
patient animal’s head. 


CHAPTER IX. 


The Scalp at Big Buffalo’s Belt. 

A GKEAT lump came in Ree^s throat as he 
looked upon the body of honest old Jerry, and 
stood for a few seconds watching in a dazed, 
helpless way the big blue flies which buzzed 
about the lifeless animal in the morning sunlight. 
Then he saw for the first time that carion birds, 
buzzards, perhaps, had been feeding on the 
horse ’s flesh. 

The oppressive silence and desolation of the 
camp were as dead weights on the lad’s spirits, 
already burdened with most unhappy thoughts, 
and standing as still as the motionless trees about 
him, he could not summon back the resolution 
and courage which had kept him unfaltering 
throughout the night. The snapping of a twig 
recalled his scattered senses, however, and his 
sudden movement frightened a gaunt wolf which 
had crept up almost to the lifeless horse, and 
now went skulking away. 

“I cannot understand— cannot think, I must 
121 


122 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


get my wits to working, some way ! ’ ’ the boy ex- 
claimed in a half whisper, “what in the world 
can have happened?’^ 

Again Ree’s mind gained the mastery over 
his fatigued body and his powerful determina- 
tion seemed again to drive the weariness away. 
He stooped and stroked but once or twice the 
dead horse’s damp foretop, then hastened to the 
cart. Nothing in it had been disturbed. He 
looked carefully about the shelter of poles and 
brush which had been built, and found every- 
thing in comparatively good order. Surely 
things would not be in this state if his friends 
had been driven otf or killed by Indians. It 
must be that they were attacked, had repulsed 
the enemy and had now gone in pursuit. 

But why had they not returned? There was 
no doubt but that old Jerry had been dead at 
least a day, and John and Tom would, in that 
case, have been absent nearly as long. 

With feverish anxiety Ree searched for a 
trail which would show the direction taken by the 
enemy or his friends, or both, but the sound of a 
stealthy footstep on the bank above caused him 
to spring to the shelter of a tree. 

As he watched and listened, he heard voices^ 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


123 


and quietly stepped into the open ; for he would 
have known John’s tones among ten thousand. 
And at the same minute John and Tom Fish saw 
Ree gazing up at them, and both ran toward him, 
J ohn crying excitedly : ‘ ‘ Return Kingdom I Oh, 
but I am glad to see you!” 

“Dutch rum an’ fire-water, it’s happy I am 
y’er back!” Tom Fish exclaimed. 

“What has happened, John?” asked Ree in 
his usual quiet way, grasping his friend’s hand. 

“Wrhat ain’t happened? It beats me as I 
ain’t ever been beat yet,” Tom Fish made an- 
swer. 

“It was another of those mysterious shots, 
Ree— the very morning you left us,” said John, 
putting his hand affectionately on his chum’s 
arm. 

“Another?” Ree spoke more to himself 
than to either John or Tom, and something made 
him think of Big Pete Ellis and the fellow’s 
threats. 

“It was the same sort of a shot as before, 
but in broad daylight,” John answered. “We 
had just got the cart down into this gully and 
were preparing to get it up the other side, when 
we heard a rifle shot and— old Jerry fell dead. I 


124 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


saw the smoke curling out from the bushes just 
half a minute later, and Tom and I both ran hack 
up the hill. But there was no one near. We did 
find a trail but it was mingled with the tracks of 
the horse and cart, and the snow being gone, we 
could not follow it. For miles around the woods 
seemed as quiet as a Sunday at home. We 
looked all about but— 

“Only one thing is plain, some Mingo or 
somebody has a grudge ag’in ye, or else there’s 
been some consumed queer coincidences,” broke 
in Tom Fish. ‘ ‘ It beats me ! ” 

“I don’t see what we are to do, Eee ! Tom 
and I decided just to wait here until you came 
back. But what have you been doing f Why, 
your hands and face are frightfully scratched, 
and you look all played out ! ’ ’ 

“I guess I’ve had my hands full,” said Bee 
with a sad little smile. “But tell me where you 
two were. Why is there no fire ? ’ ’ 

“Such a time as we have had!” was John’s 
sorrowful answer. “Poor old Jerry was scarce- 
ly dead before there were hawks or buzzards ci^'- 
cling around above us, and when night came, 
wolves and other animals howled all around us, 
and so near we would have been afraid, had we 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


125 


not had a big fire. Toward morning it became 
quieter and I was asleep, and Tom on watch, 
when a bear came poking around.” 

“Biggest bear ye ever seen,” interrupted 
Thomas Fish. 

“Well,” John went on, “we both set out 
after that bear, though it was pitch dark. We 
had a long chase for nothing, though, for we 
caught sight of the big fellow only once, and not 
long enough to get a shot at him. Coming back, 
it was light, and we stopped to explore the gully. 
But we did not expect to find you here. Bee. We 
would not have come back when we did, only to 
keep the buzzards away from the horse till we 
can burn the body. And I don T see what we are 
to do. But you haven T told a word about your- 
self.” 

Eee was busily thinking, and for a little 
time made no answer. Then Tom and John 
spoke again, asking where he had been and what 
he had found. 

‘ ‘ Why, I ^11 tell you, ’ ’ he answered them. ‘ ‘ I 
came upon a first-class place for a cabin, on a 
bluff right at the bank of a splendid little river, 
and a little natural clearing around it. About 
five minutes later I came upon some Delaware 


126 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


Indians and as they wouldn’t believe me when I 
told them who I was, they made me a prisoner. 
I got away in the night, and here I am. ’ ’ 

John’s eyes opened wide, and excitedly he 
demanded to know all the particulars of Ree’s 
adventure. Tom Fish whistled a long, low note 
and almost closing his eyes, he looked toward Ree 
with a squint which was more expressive of his 
astonishment and interest than words could have 
been. 

As the three of them sat on the thills of the 
now useless cart, Ree told them more fully of his 
experiences. Many were John’s outbursts of in- 
terest, and Tom whistled in his peculiar way 
more than once. 

“Can’t more than kill us, and we may as 
well die that way as starve to death,” said the 
old hunter, as Ree spoke of the probability of the 
Indians soon finding their camp, and straightway 
he began preparations for breakfast. As they 
gathered about the savory meal which soon was 
ready, the conversation turned again to the mys- 
terious attack which had ended the life of their 
horse. 

J ohn could not be persuaded that it was not 
some prowling Indian who had fired the shot. 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


127 


but Ree urged both him and Tom to be on their 
guard constantly and ho would be the same, he 
said, for there was no knowing when another 
bullet might come whizzing toward them, nor 
when one of their own lives might not be thus 
snutfed out. 

As breakfast was finished, John and Tom 
pleaded with Ree that he should lie down and get 
some rest, but he took a cold bath in the brook 
close by, instead, and would not listen to them 
further. All three were keeping their eyes open 
to detect the approach of Indians, for they did 
not doubt the savages would soon come, especial- 
ly since the re-kindling of the fire had sent a 
stream of smoke steadily skyward, and now this 
signal of their whereabouts was made all the 
more plain by the building of a much larger fire 
upon and about the body of the unfortunate 
horse. 

‘ ‘ Let them come, ’ ’ was the confident declar- 
ation of Return Kingdom, as Tom Fish had sug- 
gested that the savages could not be far away. 
“We will meet them as friends,” he went on, 
“and I honestly believe that when they find that 
we are peaceable traders, there will be no trouble 
whatever.” 


128 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


Tom whistled and squinted as Eee took this 
hold stand, but he had learned that the boy ‘ ‘ had 
a long head, ’ ’ and made no further remonstrance 
against the plan proposed. 

About noon the savages arrived. John dis-^ 
covered a dark face peering out from some 
bushes on the bluff, and waved his hand in that 
direction in a friendly way. The searching eyes 
instantly disappeared. It required courage to 
follow the program Eee had mapped out, now 
when it was known that vengeful and cruel Dela- 
wares were lurking so near, themselves fully pro- 
tected by the bank and brush, and trees; but 
when, a few minutes later Eee saw an Indian 
looking down at them, and the fellow put down 
his gun as a sign of friendliness, they knew they 
had acted wisely. 

Notwithstanding the show of friendliness, 
however, Tom Fish said: “Keep your wits 
about ye, kittens, there ain’t no snake in the 
woods as treacherous as them varmints.” 

Two savages were soon seen coming down 
the path, and Eee and Jolm, laying down their 
guns, as the Indians had done, walked forward to 
meet them. Thus peace was secured for the time 
being, at least, and as the boys shook hands with 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


129 


the Redskins, the latter gave them to understand 
that their chief was in waiting to be met and con- 
ducted to the camp. 

Ree went to the cart and secured from their 
stock of merchandise a small hand-mirror in a 
round, pewter frame with a pewter lid over it, 
and with this for a present to the chief, he and 
John were guided to a spot not far away where 
the savage warrior and his braves were assem- 
bled. He was a tall muscular young fellow and 
would have been handsome had it not been for a 
look of malicious cunning and wickedness in his 
small dark eyes. But the gift of the mirror 
pleased his savage fancy greatly and he accepted 
it with a show of friendliness. 

There were eleven Indians in the party. 
J ohn could not repress a smile when he saw the 
singed hair and burned face of the young brave 
whom Ree had knocked into the fire, but even 
Kingdom failed to recognize the savage with 
whom he had battled for his very life alone in 
the darkness. By sign or otherwise neither of 
the boys made any reference to the adventure of 
the day and night before, but with perfect friend- 
liness conducted the Indians to their camp. 

Tom Fish’s spirits had grown lighter when 
9 


130 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


he saw that a fight would be avoided and he 
greeted each Indian in his happy-go-lucky fash- 
ion. 

‘‘You’re a good un,” he said to the chief. 
“Got a little muscle, too, ain’t ye? Ain’t no re- 
ligion in that eye o’ yourn, though!” 

And so it went with the whole party. As he 
noticed the buck who was burned Tom laughed 
aloud. ‘ ‘ Pretty near took the hide off, didn ’t it. 
Smart Alec?” he exclaimed. “Doubled ye up 
like a two-bladed jack-knife, I should guess. Oh, 
these here boys are frisky! No foolin’ with 
them!” 

John laughed at this, but no one took heed 
of him except Tom, who laughed boisterously, as 
he always did when anyone showed an apprecia- 
tion of his crude jokes. 

Almost immediately upon reaching the camp 
the Indians asked for “fire-water,” but Eee 
shook his head. It was true that in one of the 
several packages of goods there was a large stone 
bottle of whiskey which Capt. Bowen had pro- 
vided for the boys together with other medicines, 
but not for a great deal would Kingdom have let 
the Indians know it; and he hoped that Tom 
would not find it out, either; for the truth was 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


131 


that Fish had drunk more than was good for him 
at Pittsburg. But all the savages ate of the meat 
which was placed before them, and Tom Fish, 
never neglecting an opportunity of this kind, 
made out a square meal also. The boys joining 
in, too, there was quite a feast. 

One of the Indians, a good looking young 
buck, showed for Bee a warmer friendship than 
any of the others. He was the one whom the boy 
had mistaken for the chief of the party the day 
before. His name was Fishing Bird and the 
chief’s name was Big Buffalo. The latter was 
far from showing entire friendship and a dispute 
arose between these two savages when Bee told 
them that he and John wished to purchase land. 

Fishing Bird indicated that the boys must 
go to the great chief of their tribe, Hopocon, or 
Captain Pipe, as the whites called him, at the 
village of the Delawares. Big Buffalo, on the 
other hand, contended that he himself had power 
to sell land. 

Bee rightly judged as he saw an ugly feeling 
between these two, that he had made a serious 
mistake when he had mistaken Fishing Bird for 
the chief the day before, arousing the other’s 
jealousy very much. He thought now, that he 


132 FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 

recognized in Fishing Bird the Indian with 
whom he had grappled in the forest. If this 
were true, it was evident that that Indian, un- 
willing to confess how he had been vanquished,; 
had said nothing to the others of his struggle 
with the escaped prisoner. 

However, seeing that the land question 
might cause trouble, both Bee and John dropped 
it, having learned from the savages that a day’s 
journey to the south and west would take them to 
the Delawares’ town. They determined, there- 
fore, to visit the village of Captain Pipe and talk 
with the great chief himself. 

The afternoon was nearly spent before the 
Indians departed. They were scarcely gone 
when Tom Fish called Bee and John to him and 
the boys noticed for the first time that a great 
change had come over the old hunter, who for 
some time had little or nothing to say. 

“Did ye see that fresh scalp hangin’ at that 
Buffalo varmint’s belt?” he asked. “That 
means blood. It means fightin ’ ! I’ve seen many 
a Bedskin, but I never seen a wickeder one than 
that Buffalo. An’ there’s no more play for 
Thomas Trout, which some calls Fish, my kit- 
tens, both I I tell ye now, that from what I seed. 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


133 


there was nothin’ kept us out of a fight this day- 
hut the friendliness o ’ that chap Fishin ’ Bird. If 
Big Buffalo had a’ dared, he’d a’ pitched onto us. 
Them’s my honest sentiments; an’ more’n that, 
did ye see the scalp at that red devil’s belt? 
Don’t tell me they ain’t been on the war-path! 
Did ye see that scalp, an’ the blood on it hardly 
more ’n dry? Oh, sorry day ! Oh, sorry day— the 
blood on it hardly more’n dry. ’Cause I’m a 
plagued sight mistaken, kittens both, if I don’t 
know whose scalp that is ! Oh, sorry day ! ’ ’ 

Tom’s voice had sunk almost to a whisper 
and involuntarily John shuddered. The sinking 
sun cast thick, dark shadows in the narrow val- 
ley, and a death-like silence was broken only by 
the soughing wind and the tinkle of the brook. 

These melancholy surroundings and the 
gruesome way in which Tom spoke, were enough 
to remove all cheerfulness which might have ex- 
isted, but Tom said again, slowly and with a 
mournful emphasis, “I know— I know whose 
scalp it is, lads ; an’ the blood on it hardly more’n 
dry.” 

The rough woodsman put his arm across 
his eyes and leaned mournfully on his rifle, as he 
spoke. 


CHAPTER X. 


A Night With the Indians. 

To SHUT out from his thoughts the horrid 
memory of the bloody scalp at Big Butfalo’s belt, 
Ree turned and busied himself with the fire, 
which had burned quite low, and soon a roaring 
blaze was leaping skyward, shedding good cheer 
around. 

The woodsman still stood leaning on his rifle, 
a look of sadness on his face such as was seldom 
seen there. If John had noticed this he might 
not have asked in the tone in which he did : 

“Well, whose scalp is it?” 

‘ ‘ It ain ’t your ’n, kitten, an ’ ye can be glad o ’ 
that.” 

‘ ‘ Shucks ! How can you tell whose it might 
have been ? How could anybody tell ? ’ ’ asked the 
boy. 

Tom made no reply, and Ree deftly changed 
the subject by saying that one of them had better 
stand guard that night. He expected no trouble 
with the Indians, but he was not willing to be 
134 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


135 


caught napping by the unknown foe whose work 
had now cost the life of their horse. 

Tom was gloomy all the evening as they sat 
before the fire, but he told the boys of the great 
chief of the Delaware ’s, Hopocon, or Capt. Pipe, 
and reminded them that he was one of the In- 
dians who were responsible for the burning of 
Col. Crawford at the stake eight years earlier. 

That and other stories of this noted chief 
made the boys curious to see him, and anxious 
to put themselves on friendly terms with him. It 
was decided that the next day they should visit 
the Delaware town and make arrangements for 
securing land. Without a horse they could move 
their goods only with great labor, and they were 
desirous of knowing just where they were tak- 
ing their property, therefore, before they under- 
took to move it from their present camp. 

“Guess I will stay an’ watch here, whilst 
you youngsters go to see Capt. Pipe,” said Tom, 
as the subject was under discussion. “I might 
not be as peaceful as a little lamb— plague take 
their greasy skins ! Not if I clapped my eyes on 
that Buffalo critter ag’in!” 

“Look a here, Tom,” Ree answered, earn- 
estly. “We boys are on a peaceable mission and 


136 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


we don’t want to get into trouble on your ac- 
count. We know that the horrible sight of that 
scalp, and your belief that you know from where 
it came, has made you want revenge, but John 
and I have had no special trouble with the Dela- 
wares and it would be very foolish, situated as 
we are, for you or any of us to start a fight with 
them now.” 

“I see all that— I ain’t so blind! But—” 
Tom did not finish the sentence. Instead he be- 
gan talking of other things and advised the boys 
to take every precaution against being treacher- 
ously dealt with when they should find Big Buf- 
falo at his own home— the Delaware town. 

It was a windy, cloudy morning that found 
Ree and John tramping through the valleys and 
over the hills of a fine, thickly wooded country 
toward the Indian village. Early in the after- 
noon they came to a sloping hillside beyond 
which lay a swampy tract grown up to brush and 
rushes. Close by was a beautiful little lake and 
at the opposite side the smoke was rising from the 
town of the Delaware tribe of Indians. 

As the boys approached the water, planning 
to walk around the lake, they were discovered by 
three Indians in a canoe, which seemed almost 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


137 


to spring out of the water, so quickly did it appear 
from around a bushy point. The savages headed 
directly toward the boys, without a sound. 

The lads laid down their rifles as a sign of 
friendliness, and in another minute a swift stroke 
of a paddle grounded the Indians ’ craft upon the 
beach. The Redskins bounded ashore and with 
some reluctance shook hands with the boys. 

Without loss of time Ree gave them to un- 
derstand that he wished them to inform their 
chief, Hopocon, or Capt. Pipe, that two young 
Palefaces were waiting to call on him, and tell of 
their friendly wish to buy some land of the Dela- 
wares, and that they would remain where they 
were while he should send a canoe to carry them 
over. 

None of the three Indians had been in the 
party of the previous day, but they seemed read- 
ily to comprehend what was desired of them and 
turned to go. 

One of the Redskins, quite a young fellow, 
lingered behind. After the other two had taken 
their places in the canoe he pushed it out into 
deep water, then he made a running jump to leap 
aboard. He might have done so very nicely, had 


138 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


he not slipped just as he jumped. As it was, he 
went sprawling in the water most ridiculously. 

The other Indians grunted derisively. John 
laughed heartily and Ree smiled, amused to see 
the proud young buck get just such a ducking as 
he deserved for trying to ‘ ‘ show off. ’ ’ 

However, the lithe young fellow seized the 
canoe and was safely in it in a very brief space of 
time. Soon it was far out on the lake, rocking 
and dancing lightly as a feather on the fierce lit- 
tle waves, which a strong wind was blowing up. 

Ree and John made themselves comfortable 
on the grassy bank beside the water, and waited. 
It seemed a long time until they saw a canoe com- 
ing for them. The fact was, and the boys 
shrewdly surmised it, that Capt. Pipe, or Hop- 
ocon, desirous of impressing the strangers with 
his greatness, purposely kept them waiting 
awhile. 

The canoe sent for the boys was manned by 
two of the Indians they first met, and the lads 
were taken aboard. Although frail in appear- 
ance, the light little craft was capable of carry- 
ing seven or eight persons. It was made of the 
bark of a bitter-nut hickory, and was the first of 
the kind in which the Connecticut lads had ever 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


139 


~ ridden. They quickly found that they must aid 
in keeping the canoe balanced to prevent its up- 
setting, and their efforts to do this, before they 
caught the knack of it, rather amused the In- 
dians. 

In a short time, however, the canoe touched 
shore before the Indian town and the Paleface 
visitors were conducted at once to the council 
house. This was a long low building, its lower 
part being built of logs but its sides and roof 
being of bark. It was open at one end, and at 
the other end skins were hung up to shut out the 
wind. In the center of the rude structure, whose 
floor was only the hard-trodden earth, was a fire, 
the smoke escaping through a large hole in the 
roof. 

All these things were observed by the boys 
in time, but first to attract their notice as they 
entered, were the Indians, especially one of great 
size— elderly and very dignified, seated on a bear 
skin spread over a mat of bark. He shook hands 
with each as they stepped up, saying only 
‘‘How.” 

Ree answered in the same fashion but J ohn 
was so flustrated that he stammered : ‘ ‘ How do 
you do, sir?” in a manner which bored him a 


140 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


great deal, as Ree jokingly recalled the circum- 
stance long afterward. 

But Capt. Pipe knew from the lad’s tone that 
he spoke respectfully and it pleased him. Other 
Indians seemed to feel the same, and the several 
minor chiefs and medicine men who were pres- 
ent, shook hands with the boys with a great show 
of dignity and formality. Then the young trad- 
ers stated the object of their visit and were shown 
to a seat opposite Capt. Pipe and pipes were 
brought out. They all smoked, the boys soon dis- 
covering that it was not tobacco but “kinnild- 
nick”— the inner bark of young willow sprouts 
dried and pulverized— which was in the pipes. 

Presently the great chief laid aside his pipe, 
a long-stemmed affair with a curiously carved 
clay bowl, and all others immediately followed 
his example. In another minute the speech-mak- 
ing began. 

Capt. Pipe’s was the first address, a brief 
preliminary statement. He made a most impos- 
ing appearance as he stood very erect, his arms 
folded, his head-dress of feathers reaching half 
way to the ground behind him, the fringes of his 
shirt-like coat rustled by the movements of his 
body, as he talked. Others followed, but the boys 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


141 


understood very little of what was said. As Big 
Buffalo arose, however, there was a scowl on his 
face which was far from pleasant. His gestures 
indicated hostility and the Paleface lads knew 
that at heart he hated them. They wished Fish- 
ing Bird were present to say a friendly word. 

Capt. Pipe, himself, spoke a second time a 
little later, however, and very earnestly Ree and 
John studied his grave and stern, but not unkind, 
face, to learn how he felt toward them. They 
could scarcely believe that he was the savage, 
who, only a few years before, had been a leading 
spirit in the torture of Colonel Crawford. 

Occasionally the chief used a few English 
words and the boys gathered from the general 
trend of his remarks that they would be welcome 
if they came only as traders; but that settlers 
were not welcome, and the Indians wished no one 
to come among them who would clear land or do 
anything which might lead to the establishing of 
a settlement of the whites in their country. A 
reasonable number of hunters and traders might 
come and go unmolested but there must be no 
building of permanent cabins ; there must he no 
different life than that led by the children of the 
forest— the Indieins themselves. 


142 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


A long silence followed this address, and 
then Eee arose to speak. His heart heat fast, and 
John trembled inwardly as his friend began. 
But nervous as he was, there was no weakness in 
Bee’s tones. He spoke slowly and distinctly, 
using every sign which could be expressed by 
look or gesture to make his meaning clear ; and 
looking the Indians squarely in the eyes they 
did not fail to understand as the boy thus told 
them in his own way, that he and his friends 
hoped to live at peace with them ; that there was 
but a very small party of them, himself and one 
other, besides a woodsman who was temporarily 
with them, and that they had journeyed to that 
beautiful country of the Delawares to hunt and 
trade and make themselves a home. 

They had not been taught to live as the In- 
dians lived, he said, and they could not have a 
home without some cleared land about it for the 
crops which they would need. For this land, Eee 
went on, they were willing to pay a fair price, 
and they were desirous of selecting a location 
that they might get their cabin built. The spot 
they had chosen was where the course of the river 
had changed at some time, years before, leaving 
a little clearing. 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


143 


As Ree finished speaking he stepped up and 
laid his presents— two small mirrors and a hand- 
some hunting knife— before Capt. Pipe. John 
followed his example in this, and there were 
grunts of approval from all the Indians except 
Big Buffalo, as the boys sat down. 

More speech-making followed, however, tak- 
ing so much time that John whispered : “If they 
don’t stop soon, or ask us to stay all night, we 
will have to climb a tree, somewhere. ’ ’ 

At last a decision was reached that the boys 
were to have a piece of land including the clear- 
ing to which Ree had referred, and as much of the 
river valley and adjacent hillsides as they reason- 
ably needed, in exchange for articles to be select- 
ed from their stock of goods. 

By close attention Ree had been able to un- 
derstand the matter fairly well, but as the talk of 
the Indians had seemed so monotonous, John had 
let his thoughts run to other subjects. He had 
been wonderingwhat had become of the scalp they 
had seen at Big Buffalo’s belt the day before, and 
whether Tom Fish really knew the person whose 
death it signified; and if so, who that person 
might be. He did not know then, all that he 
came to know afterward. 


144 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


With hand-shaking all around the council 
was concluded, and Capt. Pipe conducted the 
boys to the feast which the squaws had been pre- 
paring. There was broiled venison (without 
salt) and a sort of soup containing broken com 
and beans cooked together in a large kettle. 

Nearly all of the Indians who had been in the 
council partook of these dainties and many others 
did likewise. Ree and John ate heartily though 
they did not exactly relish the lack of cleanliness 
displayed by the savages in their manner of cook- 
ing, and in their eating. 

The squaws and Indian boys and girls, and 
many a young brave for that matter, watched the 
young Palefaces curiously, and their eyes fol- 
lowed the lads closely as Capt. Pipe led them 
away to his own bark cabin. It was then that 
John first saw Gentle Maiden, Capt. Pipe’s 
daughter. She was truly handsome for one of 
her race, but she stepped behind a screen of skins 
and was gone before Ree had even noticed her. 

The chief of the Delawares told the boys to 
make themselves comfortable, and a squaw, who 
seemed to be his wife, spread skins for them to 
sit upon or lie upon, as they chose. Capt. Pipe 
then gave his guests to understand that they 


PAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


145 


might come and go as they chose and remain with 
him as long as they wished. He then withdrew 
and presently the boys did go for a stroll about 
the queer town of the Indians. Fortunately they 
met Fishing Bird and he walked all about with 
them then, leading the way to a fire before which 
a game like dice was being played. 

The seeds of wild plums, colored black on 
one side and scraped white on the other, were 
shaken up in a box made of bark and thrown out 
upon a smooth spot on the ground. The Indians 
endeavored to throw as many as possible of the 
seeds with the white sides up, and he who did the 
best at this, won the game. It seemed very dull 
amusement to John, but liee watched the game 
with much interest, until Fishing Bird beckoned 
him away. And then something took place 
which made Bee quite certain that this was the 
Indian whom he might have killed as they strug- 
gled alone in the forest solitude only the second 
night previous. 

It was a wrestling match which Fishing 
Bird proposed, and he called to a strapping 
young savage and challenged him to undertake 
to put Bee down. The brave smiled and stepped 
up willingly. Bee would have preferred that 


146 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


such a contest had not been suggested, but as the 
young Indian looked at him in a way which 
seemed to say, ‘^It will not take me long to put 
you on your back,” he decided to throw the 
proud young redskin if he could. 

With many manifestations of delight the 
Indians gathered around, as they quickly learned 
what was taking place ; for there was nothing in 
which the forest rovers had a greater delight 
than trials of strength and endurance. 

Ree stipulated hut one thing, as he threw off 
his coat and made ready, this was that the wrest- 
ling should be “ catch-as-catch-can. ” 

Ready assent was given, a space was cleared 
and an Indian clapped his hands as a signal for 
the contest to begin. Like a panther the young 
brave sprang toward his sturdy white opponent 
to catch him “Indian hold.” But he reckoned 
without knowledge of his man. Ree had not for- 
gotten the teachings of Peter Piper, and so clev- 
erly did he dodge, and so quickly seize the Indian 
about the legs, that in a twinkling the proud buck 
was stretched upon the earth. 

There were expressions of wonderment from 
the Indians, but in a second the vanquished red- 
skin was on his feet, anxious for another trial. 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


147 


John, with utter disregard of good manners, 
was laughing heartily over his friend’s success, 
and as Ree declined to wrestle any more, the In- 
dian turned to him, and somewhat fiercely de- 
manded that he should try conclusions with him. 

John glanced at Ree and the latter nodded 
for him to go ahead. In another minute then, 
a match, the closeness and desperation of which 
delighted the savages beyond measure, was in 
progress. 

Tightly clasping each other’s arms, the con- 
testants strained every muscle and struggled 
back and forth and round and round— now slow- 
ly, now vsdth movements most rapid, neither gain- 
ing an advantage. Longer and longer the con- 
test continued in this way, and Ree saw that John 
was becoming worn out. He must act quickly or 
succumb to the Indian’s greater weight and pow- 
er of endurance. 

‘ ‘ You can throw him if you only say to your- 
self that you must and that you will, and then 
do it,” Ree whispered, as John was pushed near 
him, and his advice was taken. 

With a show of strength which surprised 
them all, John forced his opponent backward, 
and tried again to trip the fellow, but could not. 


148 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


Then he allowed the savage to try to trip him, 
and seizing the opportunity, gave the redskin so 
sudden and violent a pull that he was taken otf 
his feet and fell heavily, dragging John down 
with him. Both the Indian’s shoulders touched 
the ground, however, and with savage glee the 
redsldns acknowledged John to be the victor. 
To do them justice, they seemed not at all put 
out that their man was defeated. Only one who 
was present scowled. He was Big Buffalo, and 
with an ugly look he strode away from the camp- 
fire ’s light. 

Ree could not help but notice the savage fel- 
low ’s hostile manner. ‘ ‘ We better watch out for 
him,” he said to John as they discussed the in- 
cident sometime later, when they had sought rest 
for the night on the skins in Capt. Pipe’s house. 

“It makes me feel— well, not exactly com- 
fortable, Ree,” John answered. “Here we are 
a hundred miles from civilization sleeping in the 
hut of one of the bloodiest Indians of the North- 
west Territory ; Indians all around us, and Good- 
ness knows what else in the woods, on every 
side!” 

“Why, John,” said Ree, “I believe we are 
safer to-night than at any time since we left Fort 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


149 


Pitt Oapt Pipe may be a bad Indian, but be 
would fight for us, if need be, while we are his 
guests. He might scalp us to-morrow after we 
have said good-bye, but when we are in his house 
as friends, we will be protected.” 


CHAPTER XL 


Again a Hidden Enemy. 

The boys were early astir the following 
morning. As soon as they were up Capt. Pipe’s 
wife placed a dish of hoiled corn, like hominy, 
before them, and this was their breakfast. A 
little later, telling Capt. Pipe of the great amount 
of work they had to do, the lads bade him good- 
bye, the chief giving them each a pouch of 
parched corn, and sending an Indian to take 
them in a canoe across the lake. 

It was two hours past noon when Tom Fish 
suddenly started up from the broiled turkey with 
which he was regaling himself, as he heard some 
one approach, and discovered Ree and John re- 
turning. He greeted them gladly, but not in his 
usual hilarious fashion, and they could not but 
notice how unlike himself he was as he carved 
for them some juicy slices from the fine young 
gobbler he had cooked. Yet he listened with in- 
terest to Ree’s account of their trip, John often 
breaking in with such jolly comment as: “You 


150 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


151 


should have heard those Indians talk ! Why they 
beat a quilting bee for gabbling, except that they 
didn’t all talk at once.” 

‘ ‘ But they are real orators, ’ ’ added Ree quite 
soberly. “I’ve heard that an Indian has three 
ambitions — to be a mighty hunter, a great war- 
rior and a grand orator; and there are some 
splendid speakers among the Delawares. ’ ’ 

“The’s some red-handed, bloody murderers 
among ’em, too, I kin tell ye, ’ ’ Tom Fish growled. 
‘ ‘ I got no rest whilst ye was gone, a thinkin ’ of 
it.” 

“Has anything happened, Tom?” asked 
Ree, struck by his friends grave manner. 

‘ ‘ Cheer up, Thomas, cheer up ! ” cried J ohn. 
“You’ve been about as cheerful company as a 
box of indigo ever since you saw that— that hide- 
ous thing at Big Buffalo ’s belt. ’ ’ 

“Well, it’s a wonder the’ didn’t nothing 
happen, an’ somethin’s goin’ to happen, I know,” 
the hunter replied to Ree’s question, ignoring 
John’s bantering, as he often did. “That Buf- 
falo varmint means harm. I ’ve been thinkin ’ it 
all over an ’ the ’ ain ’t no two ways about it. If 
I ain ’t a sight mistaken, I seen him peekin ’ down 
from the hill back there, not a half hour ago— 


152 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


either him or some dirty Mingo ; I didn ’t exact- 
ly see him, but I heard some one, an’ I’d a’ pep- 
pered away at him if you kittens hadn’ ’a been 
gone an’ me not knowin’ just where ye might be. 
vSo ’Ive been thinkin’ it all over, an’ mighty sorry 
I am I ever piloted ye into this hostyle kentry. 
The’s only one thing to do, an’ that’s to take 
what stuff ye kin an’ get back to Pittsburg fast 
as yer legs kin take ye. Now as fer me, I kin 
take care of myself, but I ’ll see ye part way any- 
how, an’ I’d go clear back with ye if I didn’t 
have somethin ’ very important to ’tend to. ’ ’ 

Ree could not help but smile at Tom’s droop- 
ing spirits, though the discouraging talk made it 
necessary for him to appear really more cheerful 
than he felt, as he realized that Big Buffalo really 
seemed anxious to cause trouble. But he shook 
his head at John, as he saw the latter about to 
scold Tom for bringing them into this part of the 
wilderness only to advise them to leave it ; for his 
chum’s face showed that he was not pleased with 
Tom’s manner. 

“There is just one thing to be done,” Ree 
exclaimed. 

“An’ that’s get right back—” Tom Fish 
was saying. 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


153 


But the youthful leader of the party inter- 
rupted: “Go back? No, sir! The one thing 
to do is to go forward, and take our goods with 
us without further loss of time. We will get a 
good, stout cabin up and then we’ll be better 
prepared for trouble if it comes. And that prow- 
ler, you heard, Tom, must have been the same 
cowardly wretch who shot old Jerry. We must 
watch for him. We cannot be too careful, but if 
he is the same fellow who fired on us and nearly 
killed Black Eagle ’s son, ’way back on the Penn- 
sylvania border, I think I can guess who it is, 
and I can tell you, he is a coward. But let’s get 
to work. ’ ’ 

“I like yer spunk, lad, an’ I like you, but 
what I want to say is, that Tom Trout as some 
calls Fish, will stick by ye till ye get some sort 
of a shack throwed up, anyhow. ’ ’ 

“Bully for you, Tom! And bully for you, 
too, Ree,” exclaimed John springing up to begin 
whatever task awaited him. “I was beginning 
to get away down in the mouth, the way Tom was 
talking a minute ago. ’ ’ 

“ We must take the goods out of the cart and 
pack them in convenient shape for carrying,” 
Ree directed, without further ado. “By drag- 


154 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


ging a few things forward a hundred rods or so, 
then coming back for more and so on, we should 
reach the river in a couple of days. ’ ’ 

And so all fell to work with a will. The 
cart did not contain a heavy load, as it would 
have been impossible for old Jerry to have hauled 
it through the woods, up hills, across streams 
and boggy places. But when it came to carry- 
ing forward everything except the cart, which 
must be abandoned, without the aid of a horse, 
the task was found to be a most laborious one. 

The unpacking and rearranging consumed 
so much time that darkness had come on before 
the last bundle of the merchandise and provisions 
had been carried forward to the first stopping 
place, a little way beyond the top of the bluff, in 
the valley below which the camp had been. 

While John and Tom erected a shelter for 
the night, for the wind was cold and raw, Ree 
returned to the valley to procure coals with which 
to start a fire at the new camp. He found it 
necessary to enliven the dying embers with a few 
fresh sticks of wood, and as he stooped over to 
blow greater life into the struggling blaze which 
started up, he heard a rustling in the leaves on 
the hill behind him, in the direction opposite that 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


155 


in which his friends were. Like a flash he sprang 
away from the fire into the half-darkness which 
filled the valley. He was in the nick of time. A 
rifle cracked and a bullet threw up the ashes and 
sent the sparks flying where his head had been 
just a second before. 

With the speed of the wind Ree ran in the 
direction from wihch the shot had come, his own 
rifle cocked and ready. He thought he heard 
some one making off in tlie darkness as he 
reached the top of the hill, but whether white man 
or Indian— Delaware or Mingo, he could not tell. 
He called out a command to halt, but no attention 
was given his order for the uncertain sound of 
fleeing footsteps continued. He chanced a shot 
in the direction of the unknown enemy, although 
he realized it would probably do no good. 

While he reloaded his rifle Ree stepped be- 
hind a tree, and a few seconds later John came 
running up. As it was too dark to continue the 
chase, both boys returned to camp, stopping in 
the ravine to secure a fire brand to start a blaze 
to prepare their supper. In vain did John ask 
questions as to whom Ree believed the would-be 
murderer was; they could not be answered, for, 
as Ree said, he had not seen the person. 


156 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


Tom Fish, disconsolate as he well could be, 
sat on a big bundle of merchandise as the boys 
rejoined him. 

“It’s sure death to stay here, lads,” were the 
first words he said, and his tone was not calcu- 
lated to make the young travelers comfortable; 
but resolving to look on the brighter side, Ree 
cheerily answered: 

“A man is in some danger wherever he is. 
We will all feel better when we smell some veni- 
son on the hot coals. And just wait till we get 
our cabin built ! We are going to get some beans 
and late squashes from the Indians, and bake 
some corn bread, and have a regular old-fash- 
ioned Connecticut supper ! ’ ’ 

“Did ye hit him, d’ye think, Ree?” asked 
Tom, brightening up. 

“No, but he scared him into eleven kinds of 
fits,” John answered for his friend, catching the 
spirit of the latter’s courage and enthusiasm. 

‘ ‘ It ain ’t that I am caring for myself. Tom 
Fish, or Tom Trout didn’t ever lose a wink o’ 
sleep bein’ afraid he couldn’t look out for num- 
ber one, ’ ’ the woodsman went on. ‘ ‘ But after— 
after that— thing we saw the other day— but I 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


157 


guess we’ve got our appetites left,” lie said, 
suddenly changing the subject. 

It was not long until the supper was ready 
and eaten and all did feel much the better for it, 
as Ree had predicted. The ordinary noises of 
the forest, the howling of wolves, in pursuit of 
some poor deer, perhaps, the far-away shriek of 
a panther balked of its prey, it may have been, 
gave them little concern. Though the darkness 
was intense and enemies might draw very near 
without being observed, the boys believed they 
had made peace with the Indians and the pres- 
ence of four-footed enemies did not worry them. 

Tom Fish felt very differently about the 
matter of the Indians’ friendship, but he kept 
these thoughts to himself for the time being, and 
though there are far more comfortable places 
than a camp in a great wilderness on a cold No- 
vember night, the lads from Connecticut would 
have been entirely happy had it not been for the 
mystery of the strange prowler, the thought that 
several times they had been secretly fired upon, 
and that there was no knowing when another at- 
tack might be made in which the aim of the das- 
tardly assailant need be but a trifle better to end 
the life of one or both of them, perhaps. 


158 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


Yet, even these gloomy facts could not dis- 
pel the good spirits which accompany good 
health and the hopefulness of youth. Even Tom 
seemed to forget his dark forebodings as he was 
persuaded to tell a number of stories of his 
own adventures. Quite comfortable, therefore, 
though on the alert to catch the first sound of 
danger’s coming, the little party sat for an hour 
or two beneath the rude shelter which had been 
erected, while the firelight performed its fantas- 
tic feats around them. 

Tom volunteered to remain on guard the 
first part of the night, and crept out at the back 
of their little house of poles and brash, that he 
might not be observed, should anyone be watch- 
ing. Then, softly through the darkness he made 
his way to a convenient tree against which he 
leaned, in the dark shadows. Ree and John, 
wrapped in their blankets on their beds of deer- 
skins spread over the autumn leaves, were soon 
asleep. 

A heavy snow was sifting through the sway- 
ing branches of the trees when Tom called Ree 
and the latter went on watch. This change in the 
weather gave the quick-witted sentinel an idea. 
With the first streak of dawn he called John to 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


159 


prepare breakfast, then hurried back to the val- 
ley where their cart had been left, taking care to 
observe that there were no tracks of any human 
creature along the way. From the box of the 
abandoned two-wheeled wagon he secured two 
good sized boards and carried them to camp. 

John watched in open-mouthed astonishment 
as he saw Ree coming up with the lumber, but 
in a minute or two he discovered what his friend 
designed to do. With no other tools than an axe 
and auger he soon built a sled large and strong 
enough to carry all their goods. 

Ree’s idea proved an excellent one. The 
snow-fall was just enough to make a sled run 
smoothly, and by a little after sunrise “all the 
property of Kingdom and J erome, Indian traders 
and home-seekers,” as John expressed it, was 
piled upon the pair of runners which the senior 
member of the firm had contrived, and they and 
Tom Fish were steadily drawing it toward their 
long-sought destination. 

“We must reach the Cuyahoga river by 
uight,” Ree urged, and his own determination 
gave strength to himself and his companions. 
Up hill and down hill they hurried, tugging, per- 


160 ‘ 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


spiring, making tlie best speed possible through 
the silent forest. 

And as the sun burst through a sea of gray- 
black clouds, and shone brilliantly just before 
night’s coming, it seemed an omen of good to the 
little party in the wilderness, for at almost the 
same moment, Ree, running on a head a little 
way, cried : ‘ ‘ Here we are ! ’ ’ 

Before the daylight closed, the site of the 
cabin, work on which was to begin the next day, 
had been selected on the long irregular mound 
close to the river, which has already been de- 
scribed. 

Ree called attention to the natural advan- 
tages of the place— its sides sloping down in three 
directions while on the fourth side and thirty feet 
below was the river. It was a point which could 
be defended in case of an attack, and the addi- 
tional fact of the natural clearing and fertile 
lands surrounding it, made the place seem most 
desirable. 

“The’s only one thing the matter with this 
location,” said Tom Fish, surveying the mound 
from the semi-circular valley around it, as the 
twilight settled down. “The’s likely to be ague 
in a place like this, it bein’ so nigh the water. 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


161 


It’s a mighty good thing to steer clear of, ague 
is.” 

“But there are so many natural advan- 
tages,” Ree persisted, “and our cabin will be 
well up in the air and the sunlight. ’ ’ 

“That’s a good point, Ree,” John put in, 
“but think of it— we will have to carry all our 
firewood up that hill.” 

“I’ll carry the wood if you play out, old 
chap, ’ ’ was the answer and the matter ended by 
Ree having his own way, as was generally the 
case, not because he was selfish or obstinate, but 
because he was sure he was right before he made 
up his mind, and because he had that born spirit 
of leadersliip which gave himself and all others 
confidence in his decisions and actions. 

Although careful observation during the day 
had failed to reveal any sign of their prowling 
foe, whoever he might be, Ree and John agreed 
to divide the guard duty of the night between 
them. Ree took the first watch and reported all 
quiet when John relieved him at midnight. 

When daylight came John went a little way 
up the wooded hillside opposite the mound to 
pick up some dry wood for their fire. Suddenly 
he stopped and a startled look came upon his 
11 


162 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


face. There in the snow were foot-prints made 
by moccasined feet. They followed the trail the 
sled had made the day before, up to the very edge 
of the clearing in which their camp was made. 

There, John found, as he guardedly inves- 
tigated, they circled off to one side a little way, 
hovered about, here and there, then re-crossed 
the sled’s track and disappeared in the woods. 
What could it mean ? Instantly he remembered 
that the foot-prints of the person who had several 
times fired upon their camp, had been made by 
boots. He hurried to tlie camp mentally ejacu- 
lating : ‘ ‘ What will Tom Fish say of this ? ’ ’ 

Tom was still asleep, but Ree had com- 
menced the breakfast. “ It is too bad, ’ ’ he said, 
thinking aloud, as he learned of John’s discov- 
ery. ‘ ‘ I suppose we ought to follow those tracks 
if only for safety’s sake, and find out who made 
them, but I do hate to lose the time when we 
ought to be getting a cabin built. ’ ’ 

The discovery was pointed out to Tom when 
he awoke a little later. 

“A prowlin’ Mingo!” the old hunter ex- 
claimed as he inspected the foot-prints. “Kit- 
tens both, the’s trouble brewin’. It’s a wonder 
the varmint didn’t shoot. I don’t see what he’s 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


163 


up to, always doggin’ us this way ! But I’ll tell 
ye what I’ll do. You lads get yer axes an’ go to 
work, an’ I’ll foller up them tracks. An’ bust 
my galluses, kittens both. I’ll give the vainnint 
a dose as ’ll make him think of his pore ol’ grand- 
dad, if I ketch him ! ’ ’ 

Tom’s suggestion found favor at once, 
though the boys could not explain the varying 
moods of their friend, which made him cool and 
courageous one day and dejected and fearful an- 
other. But breakfast being over, Tom set out. 

‘‘Be careful,” Ree called after him. 
‘ ‘ Don ’t get yourself or us into any row with the 
Delawares, unnecessarily.” The hunter made 


no answer. 


CHAPTER XIL 


Building a Cabin. 

By reason of having been the first to see the 
strange foot-prints, and having come upon them, 
too, in the gray light of the early morning, when 
alone in the forest solitudes, John found it hard 
to shake off the dread with which they filled him. 
On the other hand, Ree was bright and chipper 
as a squirrel in the nutting season. He reasoned 
that the discovery of the tracks was fortunate, 
rather than otherwise, for it proved that their 
mysterious enemy was still hovering on their trail 
and gave them an opportunity of finding out who 
the wretch might be. And they now knew that 
they must he constantly on their guard, while 
except for the discovery, they might have be- 
come careless and fallen easy victims to their 
sneaking foe. 

So he cheered John up, and loud and clear 
the sounds of their axes rang out in the crisp, 
delightful air of the woods. Both boys threw off 
their coats as the healthful perspiration came to 
164 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


165 


their faces and hands, and their vigor and 
strength seemed to grow rather than decrease as 
they worked. They had been careful to keep 
their axes sharp, and the chips flew almost in 
showers. 

The trees selected for cutting were those 
from five to eight inches in diameter, whose 
trunks were firm and straight. The lads would 
be able to handle logs of this size, while larger 
ones would give them trouble, especially as they 
no longer had a horse to draw them to the cabin 
site. The work would be hard at best, but no 
more than the boys had expected, and the hearty 
good will with which they set about the task be- 
fore them, promised its speedy accomplishment 
in spite of obstacles. 

For mutual safety the boys remained near 
one another as they worked, and timber was so 
plentiful that their jjrogress was not interfered 
with by this arrangement. Their rifles were 
within reach, and their eyes and ears were alert. 

The hour of noon brought a brief but pleas- 
ant rest, and the afternoon slipped quickly away. 
As supper time drew near, John, having had only 
a cold lunch at noon, was becoming very hungry 
and was about to mention that fact, when, in- 


166 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


stead, he suddenly seized his rifle and sprang 
behind a tree. At the same instant Ree did like- 
wise. 

“As sure as shooting I heard some one 
cough!” exclaimed John in an undertone. 

‘ ‘ I heard a footstep, ’ ’ Ree quietly answered. 

‘ ‘ Ho ho ! ” It was Tom Fish who called, and 
coming forward, he confessed that he had been 
trying the boys’ watchfulness by trying to steal 
up to them without being discovered. He was 
decidedly surprised to find them so quick to de- 
tect his approach, for he had scarcely come with- 
in gun shot. 

Tom declared to John, however, tliat he had 
not coughed, saying it must have been John’s 
alert instinct which told him that some one was 
drawing near, and made him imagine he heard 
such a sound. The boys did not agree with him, 
however, for he also undertook to say that Ree 
had not heard a footstep at all, but being keenly 
alive to detect the approach of anyone, had im- 
agined he heard a noise before he really did, all 
through that peculiar sense which he called in- 
stinct. 

“But anyway it’s a good thing for you, Tom 
Pish, that you hollered when you did,” said 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


167 


John. “I was just on the point of giving you a 
dose of these lead pills that you are so everlast- 
ingly talking about!” 

Tom’s face lengthened. “You don’t want 
to be too quick with your pill box, boy, ’ ’ said he. 
“You want to see what an’ who you’re shootin’ 
at. Great Snakes, now! What if ye had pep- 
pered away at me f ” 

“Well, don’t come creeping up like a sneak- 
ing Mingo then,” laughed John, and Ree, who 
knew that John had not seen Tom until after he 
called, and had been really frightened, joined in 
his chum’s merriment. 

‘ ‘ But tell us what you found, Tom, ’ ’ urged 

Ree. 

“Well, I’ll tell ye,” Tom slowly and veiy 
soberly answered, “I don’t know what to make 
of it. Them tracks was made by a redskin an’ 
they came straight to the camp along the trail we 
made yesterday. Then after leaving here, they 
strike off an ’ go straight to the little lake across 
from the Delaware town, an’ there they stop. It’s 
plain as kin be, that some varmint from that 
there town has been spyin’ on us. Now was it 
the same critter as killed the horse, or wa’n’t it? 
An’ if it was, was that critter the Buffalo chap? 


168 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


An’ what was he hangin’ ’round here ag’in for 
last night?” 

These questions furnished an abundance of 
material for conversation during the evening 
meal, but no definite answers were agreed upon. 
Ree would not admit that they were in danger 
from the Delawares, though he agreed that Big 
Buffalo was a bad Indian. He was quite sure, 
however, that Big Buffalo had not shot old Jerry, 
for the Indian was at the head of the party of 
savages he had encountered tlie morning after 
the horse was shot, and had plainly been sur- 
prised to see any white person so far west. 

But these arguments did not satisfy Tom 
Fish, nor was John at all sure that Ree was right. 

After supper Tom said he must go back for 
a deer which he had killed in the morning, a cou- 
ple of miles from camp, and which he had hung 
up beyond the reach of the wolves, until his re- 
turn. But he had made a short cut in coming 
back to camp and so had not secured the venison. 

John jokingly cautioned him to let them 
know when he approached the camp in returning, 
lest he be mistaken for the prowler, and Tom 
most soberly promised he would, and was at 
great pains to do so ; for he was always at a loss 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


169 


to understand tlie younger of the two friends, and 
could not be sure whether he was in sober earnest 
or only joking, no matter what was said. 

The night passed without incident. Tom did 
more than his share of guard duty, but it became 
apparent next day that he did not like to wield 
an axe. He said he would go out for some fresh 
“provender’’ and “sort o’ earn his keep” that 
way. 

So while Fish went hunting, the boys toiled 
away. They could not complain because Tom 
helped so little with the cabin, for they had no 
right to expect it of him ; they were thankful in- 
deed, to have him keep the larder well supplied 
and to let him sleep during the day, for he took 
the part of sentinel a large part' of every night. 
This gave the boys opportunity to secure a good 
rest and to rise each morning eager to continue 
the task of building. 

Their faithful efforts were rapidly being re- 
warded and in due time the logs for the cabin 
were all ready. These were chopped into lengths 
with a view to making their dwelling 12 by 14 
feet— no longer than the average bedroom of 
modern houses, but affording all the space neces- 


170 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


sary, and being the easier to keep warm by rea- 
son of being compact. 

No time was spent on “fancy work,” as 
John called it, at that time. A floor and other im- 
provements could be added later. For the main 
thing to be accomplished was to get a secure 
shelter ready as soon as possible. 

The Indian summer was long since gone, 
and though there were still warm, pleasant days 
now and then, cold rains and snow came frequent- 
ly. No matter what the weather, however, the 
work went one, though hands and faces were cut 
and scratched by the brush and chapped by the 
raw winds. 

“Ree, you are a perfect fright,” said John 
with a laugh, one day. “If people from home 
were to see you now, they would say you would 
be lucky to find a scare-crow which would trade 
places with you. And your hair— why, it almost 
reaches your shoulders ! ’ ’ 

Ree smiled but did not at once reply. Then, 
looking up, he said: “Old boy, we are going 
back to Connecticut some day, but the time is a 
long way off. If we go with whole skins and with 
money in our pockets, it will be an easy matter to 
get into good clothes and to get our hair cut. 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


171 


What you want to do, is to watch out that some 
Indian barber does not cut that long hair of 
yours, rather closer than you like. ’ ’ 

It was so seldom that Ree joked, and he 
spoke now in so droll a way, that Tom Fish 
laughed boisterously. It had been long since the 
boys had heard him so merry; for, though he 
never mentioned that subject, the remembrance 
of the scalp Big Buffalo had carried, seemed al- 
ways on his spirits, bearing him down to a mel- 
ancholy, unnatural mood. 

They did not understand it then; they did 
not know. 

When the time came to raise the cabin— 
that is, to fit the logs in place one upon another, 
after they had been dragged and rolled to the 
summit of the mound, to be in readiness, Tom’s 
help was found most valuable, and both Ree and 
John appreciated his work. But notwithstand- 
ing, they would have been better pleased had he 
not remained with them. He had shown so much 
ill-feeling toward the Indians who had come 
about from time to time, that there was reason to 
believe he would commit some rash act which 
would make trouble for all. 

They could not tell Tom they did not trust 


172 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


him. They could not tell him to go. Ree’s re- 
peated cautions that they must avoid getting into 
difficulty with the redskins, were the only hints 
that could be given. 

Capt. Pipe himself and a large number of 
his braves visited the camp when the cabin was 
nearly finished, to make the settlement for the 
land the boys had engaged to buy. The young, 
X)ioneers had twice sent word to him by Indians 
who were passing, that they wished to make their 
payment and enter into a final agreement, and 
he had at last sent messengers to say that he 
would visit them on a certain day. On the day 
before Capt. Pipe’s expected visit Ree and John 
went hunting to secure an abundance of meat for 
a feast for their guests. It was the first day they 
had spent away from the hard work on their 
cabin, except for Sundays when they bathed and 
gave their clothes needed attention, and no two 
boys ever enjoyed a holiday more. There was 
some snow— not enough to make walking diffi- 
cult, but really an advantage to the young hunt- 
ers, for it showed them the numerous tracks of 
the game they sought. 

To this day, men, who have heard the stories 
handed down from generation to generation, of 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


173 


the hunters’ paradise in what is now the North- 
ern part of Ohio, in the years before 1800, delight 
to tell of the abundance of choicest game found 
in the valley of the Cuyahoga and about the small 
lakes in its vicinity, and Ree and John were in 
that very locality years before the white man’s 
axe had opened up the country to general set- 
tlement, driving the deer, the bear and wolves 
and all kindred animals away. 

Little wonder is it that these hardy pioneer 
boys were constantly reminding themselves that 
they must pass by many fine opportunities for a 
good shot, because of the necessity of saving their 
powder and bullets for actual use ; there must be 
no shooting except when there was a good chance 
of securing game of some value. 

Little wonder is it, that, even under these 
circumstances, Ree, by the middle of the after- 
noon, had secured a deer and three turkeys be- 
sides a big rabbit which he caught in his hands 
as it sprang from its burrow beneath a fallen 
tree-top. And John had also shot a deer and had 
killed their first bear— a half-grown cub which, 
late in finding quarters for its long winter’s 
sleep, rose on its hind legs, growling savagely, as 


174 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


the boys came suddenly upon it, in passing 
around a great boulder in the river valley. 

In good time on a certain Tuesday in Decem- 
ber, Capt. Pipe and his party arrived. Some of 
the braves were inclined to be very frolicsome, 
and it was necessary to watch that they did not 
get their hands on property which was not their 
own. 

But their chief was all dignity. He seemed 
to take a fancy to Ree, who was scarcely less dig- 
nified than himself,— being so grave and quiet in 
his deportment, indeed, that a doughty warrior 
who had made up his mind to challenge him to 
wrestle, had not the courage to suggest the con- 
test. 

The business of the day sat lightly on John’s 
mind, however, and he was full of antics as any 
of the redskins. It resulted in his being chal- 
lenged to wrestle, and he was laid on his back in 
short order. Then he remembered Ree’s advice 
at the time he wrestled at the Delaware town, and 
making use of it, threw his man after a most 
clever and spirited contest. 

But the great feature of the day, in John’s 
estimation, was the foot race in which he defeated 
a young Indian known to be one of the best run- 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


175 


ners of the tribe, winning a beautiful pair of 
leggings which Big Buffalo put up in a wager. 
It was a short-distance race and he realized that 
in a longer run the Indian would have defeated 
him ; it made him decide to practice running long 
distances. He might wish to outrun the redskins 
to save his scalp, some day. 

Tom Fish sat silent and alone, a little apart 
from all the others, during the whole time. He 
eyed Big Buffalo sharply when no one save Bee 
observed him, but the gruesome scalp no longer 
hung at the Indian’s belt. 

Fishing Bird was there and seemed especial- 
ly friendly, though, not being a sub-chief, as was 
Big Buffalo, he did not pretend to any special 
dignity, but enjoyed himself in sports with the 
other young Indians and John. 

When at last the Delawares settled down to 
business, there was a great deal of talk before an 
agreement was reached, that the boys should 
have a tract embracing about 200 acres, which 
the Indians marked off, in exchange for three red 
blankets and a bolt of blue cloth. It was a rather 
dear price, John thought, but Ree declared it was 
a bargain, for they secured just the land they 
wanted. ^loreover, they retained the friendship 


176 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


of the Indians, and even though they should be 
obliged to pay for the land a second time to the 
United States government or the State of Con- 
necticut, they could well afford to do so, under 
these circumstances. 

There was general hand-shaking as the Dela- 
wares went away, though Tom Fish discreetly 
disappeared for the time, vowing he would give 
his band to “no bloody varmint.” 

The Indians insisted that the young “Long 
Knives” (Ree and John) should return their 
visit the second day following, for a ratification 
of the bargain they had made. This the boys re- 
gretted, as it would probably delay the comple- 
tion of their cabin ; but they were obliged to ac- 
cept the invitation, and did so. 

The next day, Wednesday, however, work 
on their rude dwelling was resumed, and Tom 
Fish turned in and helped like a good fellow. A 
fire-place and chimney had already been built of 
flat stones from along the margin of the river, 
and this day, so industriously did all apply them- 
selves, that the roof and door were finished and 
the cabin practically completed except for the 
improvements to be added from time to time. 

Words can hardly express the boys^ pleasure 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


177 


as they built a fire for the first time in the big 
fire-place and found that their chimney did its 
work admirably. Without loss of time they at 
once moved into their new house from the brush 
shack in which their home had been ; and by the 
cheerful fire light, as the night came on, they 
placed their things in as orderly a manner as 
possible, and found themselves quite comfortable, 
though much remained to be done, the chinking 
of the walls being the chief task unfinished. 

Notwithstanding how the wind crept in at 
the open cracks until this work should be done, 
the boys were happy as they cooked and ate their 
supper in their new home. The ripple and mur- 
mur of the river as it splashed on the shore or 
washed over half-hidden stones, rose to them 
from the foot of the mound, and was like sweet 
music in their ears. The wind gently tossed the 
branches of the trees in harmony with the water’s 
sound, and the howling of wolves far otf some-' 
where in the darkness, made the feeling of secur- 
ity which the stout cabin walls gave all the more 
pleasing. Their prowling foe had not been about 
since the first night of their arrival, and they felt 
entirely safe. 

‘ ‘ I guess I ’ll turn in, then, ’ ’ said J ohn, after 
12 


178 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


trying in vain to brighten up Tom Fish and get 
him to telling stories; and he was soon asleep 
on the bed of leaves he had made in a corner. 

btee, having had no chance to read since leav- 
ing home, resolved to improve this opportunity. 
He got his “Pilgrim’s Progress” from a chest, 
and settled himself before the fire. ^ 

All the evening Tom had sat in silence beside 
the big chimney, but soon he leaned over, and 
placing one big hand on Ree’s knee, said in a 
low voice : 

“I’ve been wantin’ to tell ye somethin’, 
Ree; it’s about that thar scalp that has upset me 
so ever since I seen it.” 


CHAPTER XIII. 


The Strange Story of Arthur Bridges. 

Putting down his book Ree looked thought- 
fully into Tom’s face. 

‘‘Of course,” said he, “John and I have 
wondered about that— that matter— but we have 
considered that you had some reason for not 
talking of it, or telling us what it meant ; and it 
was really none of our business. But I want to 
say, Tom, that I would rather you would not tell 
me anything which I must keep from John. He 
and I— well, you know how we have always been 
together, and we have no secrets from each 
other.” 

“Bless ye, Ree, lad,” exclaimed the old 
woodsman, ‘ ‘ ye kin tell him all ye please of what 
I’m goin’ to tell ye. The only reason I don’t 
talk before him is— he’s so full o’ fun ye know; 
and ain’t always keerful what he says. I don’t 
keer when we’re spinnin’ yarns; but this here— 
it ain’t no triflin’ thing.” 

“It’s John’s way. He would not hurt your 
feelings for anything, Tom.” 

179 


180 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER, 


The hunter did not answer at once, but 
buried his face in his hands. Ree could plainly 
see that some great trouble was on his mind. 
Presently, however, he raised his head, and with 
a sigh clasped his hands over his knee. 

“Arthur Bridges,” he began, “was as fine 
a young feller as ever the Colonies produced ; an ’ 
excep’ for bein’ a little wild, ye wouldn’t a’ 
asked to clap yer eyes on a promisin’er chap. 
It was odd he made up t’ me the way he did, me 
bein’ old enough to be his father, a ’most, but ye 
see we was both at Valley Forge together, an’ all 
men was brothers there. We had jist one pair o’ 
shoes betwist us,— Art an’ me— an’ he wore ’em 
one day, an’ me the next, an’ so on. When grub 
was scant, we shared each with t’other, an’ when 
he got down sick I took keer on him. 

“Art top me all about himself then, an’ it 
was pitiful. His oP pap back in Connecticut 
was as pesky an’ oP Tory as ever did the Conti- 
nental troops a bad turn; but his mother was 
loyal as anybody could be. She was born an’ 
bred in this ken try, an’ her husband had come 
from England; that was just the difference be- 
twixt ’em, to start on. The upshot on it was, 
that Art believed as his mother did, an’ it was 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


181 


nat’ral as could be that he should run off an’ 
join General Washington’s army. That is what 
he did anyhow, an ’ his father swore that he hoped 
the lad would be killed, though his mother was 
prayin’ for his safety night an’ day. 

“Once in a long time Art would get some 
word from home— always from his mother, tell- 
in’ him to stick true through thick an’ thin an’ 
all would come right by an ’ by. I guess maybe 
he believed it would, too ; but I didn ’t ever have 
much hope on it myself. Bein’ a little wild, as 
ye might say. Art got wilder yet in the army, 
though there was always a great love for his 
mother in him. But he got so toward the last 
that he hated his father— yes, hated him fearful. 
Then for a long stretch he didn’t hear nothin’ 
from home an’ didn’t see anybody as had heard 
anything about his folks. 

“That’s how matters stood when the war 
was over. He says to me as how he was goin’ 
home, anyhow, an’ I tol’ him he better do that 
same. As for me, I was always for rovin’ an’ I 
lit out for Kaintucky which we was bearin’ was 
a great place for fightin’ an’ huntin’. So that’s 
how it come about that Art an’ me parted com- 
pany. 


182 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


“I was in Kaintucky an’ ’round thar for 
more’n four years; some o’ the time with Col. 
Boone an’ some o’ the time with other chaps. 
Then I got to longin’ to go back east an’ I went. 
I wasn’t thinkin’ o’ meetin’ up with Art Bridges 
again, as I reckoned on him bein’ up in Connec- 
ticut all settled down an’ married, prob’ly. But 
who should I meet up with one day but Art him- 
self, lookin’ wilder an’ more reckless than when 
I seen him last. He comes up to me and slaps 
me on the shoulder an’ calls me by name a ’most 
before I knowed him. An’ it did give me a big 
surprise to see how he had changed ; not so much 
in looks as in his ways. He was that rough like. 
After a while he tol’ me all about himself, an’ 
I could a jist cried tears for him like a baby. 

‘ ‘ He had got started home, he tol ’ me, after 
the fightin’ was over, an’ I don’t know but he 
might a’ been pretty near there— I don’t just re- 
member— but anyhow, who should he meet up 
with one day in a tavern, but a cousin o ’ his who 
looked so much like him they would ’a passed for 
twins anywhere. This here cousin’s name was 
Ichabod Nesbit, an’ the first thing he did when 
he saw Art was to shake hands with him like they 
was at a funeral an’ say as how he had some aw- 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


183 


fill bad news to tell him. An’ then he went on 
to tell him as how his mother had died months 
before, an’ his ol’ pap was livin’ on an’ cursin’ 
the Colonies with pretty nigh every breath— an’ 
cursin’ his own son. This Nesbit feller told Art, 
too, as how the ol’ man had run through all his 
property an’ was livin’ alone an’ actin’ like a 
crazy man. 

“Waal, Art was for goin’ back to see the ol’ 
man anyhow, to see if he couldn’t do somethin’ 
to straighten him up some ; but this cousin, Icha- 
bod, tol’ him as how he hadn’t better do it, sayin’ 
as how if he could come home an’ bring a for- 
tune, folks would say it was all right; but if he 
was cornin’ home with only the clothes on his 
back, why, he had better stay away ; because he 
couldn’t do nothin’ with his father anyhow. 
An ’ somehow this is jist the way Art was brought 
to look at it, an’ it upset him terrible. For of 
course the soldiers didn ’t have no pocket full o ^ 
money an ’ it was pretty true, likewise, as how he 
didn ’t have much more ’n the clothes on his back, 
jist as Ichabod said. Pretty blue, an’ a’ most 
sick from all his plans o’ goin’ home bein’ 
spoiled. Art turned back right thar and led a 
rovin’ life for years. He was quick an’ sharp. 


184 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


an’ picked up a livin’, but that was ’bout all for 
he couldn’t settle down no place. 

“All this an’ a lot more ’bout what he had 
been doin’, Art tol’ me there in Philadelphia, an’ 
I was for gettin’ him to go back west with me. 
But no, he wouldn’t; an’ me bein’ no hand to 
make out around the towns, I jist went back to 
the frontier an’ beyond. I was in Kaintucky an’ 
in this northwest kentry clean to Detroit. I got 
to know Simon Kenton, the Injun fighter, an’ I 
made some big huntin’ an’ fightin’ trips with 
him an’ other fellers. 

‘ ‘ An ’ so time run along till this last summer 
a year ago, I takes it into my head one day to go 
east agin; an’ when I had my mind made up 
there was no stoppin ’ me. I didn ’t go to Phila- 
delphia right off, but to New York. I wanted to 
see the big piles o’ furs that come in thar. 

“Now it turned out that one day in New 
York who should I meet up with but Joel Downs 
who was with us— Art an’ me— in the army. We 
was talkin’ away thar, when he asked me did I 
know what had ever become o’ Art Bridges? 
An’ it turned out that he went on to tell me then 
all ’bout how Art’s father was dead, an’ his 
mother left alone, workin’ hard to manage the 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


185 


farm, though they was well off, because she 
wanted Art to have a nice place when he come 
home. For she wouldn ’t believe the stories that 
was told around (by Ichabod Nesbit, IVe been 
thinkin’) that Art was dead. So she was waitin’ 
an’ waitin’ for Art to come an’ never knowin’ 
how the poor boy had been lied to by his ’ornery 
cousin, an’ thinkin’ he’d come some day. 

“Waal, ye kin jist guess how I felt when I 
heard all this! For I saw through it quicker ’n 
wink that that ’ornery Ichabod was tryin’ to 
make folks think Art was dead, an’ schemin’ to 
get hold of the property that would be Art’s if he 
ever come home alive. But I never says a word 
’bout this to Joel Downs. Not much 1 I wasn’t 
goin’ to have him goin’ back to Connecticut 
tellin’ folks as how Art was leadin' a wild life 
an’ goin’ to the dogs. 

“No, sir; I jist begun huntin’ for Art 
Bridges. I went to Philadelphia first, an’ got 
some track on him, findin’ out as how he had 
gone off to Kaintucky— lookin’ for me, I guess. 
I went off to Kaintucky too, jist as fast as I 
could. I got some track on him again, as how he 
had gone back to Philadelphia. We must ’a 
passed on the road somewheres. Back to Phila- 


186 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


delphia I went again, an’ found out as how Art 
had gone west to Duquesne— Fort Pitt, or Pitts- 
burgh they call it now. So I started for Fort 
Pitt, an’ on the way I met up with you young 
kittens on your way into this red devils ’ own ken- 
try. 

“An’ I come on into this kentry because I 
found out at Fort Pitt that Art had gone on west 
intendin’ to make his way to Detroit, huntin’ an* 
trappin’ an’ tradin’. He expected to go on to 
Detroit next spring an’ get a place with a big 
fur company in charge o’ some tradin’ post or 
other, away otf somewheres, he didn’t keer where 
—he was jist that sick of the kind o’ life he was 
leadin’, an’ wanted to get ’way off from every- 
body. 

‘ ‘ But that ain ’t all ! There was a man thar 
as said Ichabod Nesbit had been seen ’round thar, 
an’ he was lookin’ for Art Bridges, too. An’ I 
know that that ’orneiy cousin was lookin’ for 
Art to murder him. I felt it in my bones. He 
wanted to be sure Art was dead an’ then he would 
go back an ’pass himself otf as Art Bridges an’ 
have the property anyhow. Then when I heard 
as how Ichabod had passed himself off as Art in 
one place, I was sure I was right. But he didn’t 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


187 


need to do no murder ’nless it was him as hired 
the bloody varmints to do it for him,” and the 
hunter’s voice grew husky, “for that— that thar 
scalp— it was Art Bridges’— an’ oh, if I had been 
jist a day sooner ! For the blood on it was hard- 
ly more’n dry!” 

Tom Fish sunk his face in his hands and a 
convulsive half-sob, half-sigh shook his body 
from head to foot, as though with ague. 

Ree Kingdom drew nearer the sorrow- 
stricken man and took his big hand in his own. 

‘ ‘ Tom, ’ ’ he said, “ it is a sad, sad story. I 
know just what you suffer. But listen, Tom. 
It is not absolutely certain that the scalp we saw 
was that of your friend. No man could positive- 
ly swear to it, just by seeing the color of the hair. 
And here is another thing I have been wanting 
fo tell you, Tom, but I did not like to interrupt 
you. I know how Arthur Bridges’ mother has 
been waiting and waiting for him to come. I 
have heard what she has suffered, for she is a sis- 
ter of a Mrs. Catesby at whose home I lived and 
who was like a mother to me. But Mrs. Cates- 
by ’s husband, who is now dead, was not an agree- 
able man and the sisters hardly ever saw each 
other. They lived far apart, but now Mrs. Cates- 


188 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


by has moved to town and they will be nearer 
one another. Mrs. Catesby was so kind to me, 
Tom, that I would be mean indeed if I would not 
try to help you find her nephew. But I will help 
you, and if he is now in this part of the country 
we will hear of him sooner or later through the 
Indians. ’ ’ 

“No, there is only one thing to do, an’ it is 
for me to do it, ’ ’ Tom Fish replied without look- 
ing up. “You can’t help, Ree, an’ ye’d only get 
into a row an’ spoil all yer own plans. It is fer 
me to squar’ accounts— an’ I’ll— do it. For I 
tell, ye, Ree, I ain’t mistaken. I’d know that 
silky dark ha’r of Art Bridges’ if I seen it in 
Jerusalem. Oh, it’s too bad— it’s too bad!” 

Ree could make no answer, and in another 
minute Tom Fish straightened up and said he 
would turn in. He told Ree to do the same, and 
as he lay himself down the boy heard him saying : 

“We must all die— all die— an’ them that’s 
left can only squar’ accounts.” 

Never before had the land of friends and 
civilization seemed to Ree to be so far away as it 
did that night. His busy thoughts kept him 
awake until nearly morning. He knew what Tom 
Fish meant when he said he would “squar’ ac- 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


189 


counts.” In other words he would make the 
Delawares pay for Art Bridges’ death. There 
would undoubtedly be trouble which would put 
an end to their plans for trading and home-mak- 
ing in this new country. They could not fight 
the redskins one day, and be received as peace- 
able traders the next. 

And on the other hand, if Arthur Bridges, a 
peaceable trader, had been murdered, might he 
and J ohn not be in greatest danger of the same 
fate I Was it not true that the Indians were 
treacherous and not to be trusted though they 
seemed friendly? Even if Tom began the fight 
alone, would not the Indians blame him and John 
as being friends of his, and attack them? 

At last Ree went to sleep, resolving to per- 
suade Tom Fish to await developments. He be- 
lieved they could find out through Fishing Bird 
just where and how the bloody trophy which was 
at the root of their difficulty, had been secured. 
That might throw great light on the problem. 

John was early astir next morning and be- 
gan preparations for the visit to the Indian town 
for the council meeting at which the bargain for 
their land was to be finally confirmed. Ree was 


190 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


strangely silent as he also arose and ate the 
breakfast which John had ready. 

Tom Fish likewise had nothing to say except 
that he stated that he would remain at the cabin 
while the boys were away, and might be doing 
some work at chinking the walls. 

It was in the early winter, but the day came 
out bright and clear. Greatly the boys enjoyed 
the bright sunshine and the bracing air as they 
took their way through the woods, crossing the 
river at last, and following a much used trail 
which took them toward the Delawares’ village. 
This was a new route to them, but it was the 
course the Indians traveled and they found it bet- 
ter than the unbroken way they had previously 
taken in going to the lake beside which Capt. 
Pipe’s people lived. As they walked along Ree 
told the story of Arthur Bridges as Tom had told 
it to him, and earnestly they discussed their sit- 
uation. 

In three hours the boys came to the Indian 
town, and Capt. Pipe called a council to settle 
the bargain for the land. There was speech 
making as before, but less of it, and then came a 
feast. But this too, was less formal than before. 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


191 


The Indians seemed about to go on a bunting 
expedition and bad less time for other matters. 

The Delawares promised to do much trading 
with the young Palefaces, and the boys would 
have considered their prospects veiy bright had 
it not been for the likelihood of trouble arising 
through Tom Fish’s desire for revenge. 

The little information Ree secured from 
Fishing Bird was not at all re-assuring, either. 
That agreeable, but none the less wily, savage 
would give him no satisfaction when he ques- 
tioned him concerning the bloody trophy Big 
Buffalo had had, declaring, indeed, that no white 
man had been killed by the Delawares for a very 
long time. 

The boys started on their homeward way in 
time to arrive before dark, and reached the clear- 
ing just after sundown. With a hop, step and 
jump John ran forward and up the ascent, to the 
door. 

“Why, where is Tom?” he called as he en- 
tered. “The fire is out and there is no sign of 
him anywhere. He said he would stay here all 
day.” 


CHAPTER XIV. 


Treed by Wolves. 

The disappearance of Tom Fish caused 
both boys considerable uneasiness. They at first 
thought that he might return during the evening, 
though the fact that the fire had gone out, indi- 
cated that he had left the cabin early in the day. 
As they crept into their rough but comfortable 
bunks, however, and no sign of his coming had 
been heard, the lads realized the strong prob- 
ability that the woodsman had set out by himself 
to avenge the death of Arthur Bridges, and that 
he had intended going when he told Ree the 
strange story of that young man, the night be- 
fore. 

VHiat the consequences of Tom’s undertak- 
ing might be, atforded grave cause for alarm. 
By reason of his having been looked upon as a 
member of their party, the Indians would con- 
sider the boys equally guilty in any offense which 
he might give. 

“We will have to make the best of it, though, 
192 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


193 


and if it comes to fighting, we will fight like Tro- 
jans,” said Ree, with some cheerfulness as he 
saw that John was quite depressed. “But our 
best plan will be to say nothing to Capt. Pipe’s 
people about Tom. It may be that he left us on 
purpose to avoid getting us into trouble.” 

John agreed to this way of reasoning, hoping 
as Ree did, that it would be only a few days until 
they would see Tom and learn what his plans 
were. But time passed rapidly and nothing was 
seen or heard of the missing man. Had Tom 
been anything but a skilled woodsman the lads 
might probably have worried for his safety. As 
it was, that phase of the situation was scarcely 
thought of. 

By working early and late, thawing the 
frozen clay beside their fire, when the weather 
was cold, that they might quickly get all the 
cracks in the cabin walls closed up, the boys ac- 
complished a great deal in a week’s time. Sev- 
eral times little parties of Indians came to trade 
with them, but the savages never mentioned Tom 
Fish’s name. Big Buffalo came once and ap- 
peared more hateful than ever, suggesting the un- 
pleasant thought that perhaps he knew more con- 


194 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


cerning the absent man than he would have been 
willing to tell. 

The Delawares were not the only Indians 
who passed along the river and stopped to ex- 
change skins for cloth, knives, beads or other 
articles. The Wyandots, Chippewas and Sene- 
cas had villages to the west and north and were 
coming or going quite frequently. Sometimes 
wandering Mingoes came along, and for them it 
may be said that they were more disposed to 
make trouble than any of the others. The reason 
probably lay in the fact that they were still to 
some extent influenced by British traders who 
retained feelings of hostility toward the colonies, 
and used their influence to secretly cause Indian 
disturbances along the borders. 

At no great distance from the cabin was the 
Portage trail referred to in the previous chapter 
as passing near the Delaware town. This path 
was much used by all the Indians in traveling 
between the Great Lakes and the Ohio river, as it 
was the only stretch of land they must cross in 
making all the remainder of the journey by 
water. Thus they willingly carried their canoes 
over eight miles or so of land from the Cuyahoga 
to the Tuscarawas river, or vice versa, for the 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


195 


sake of paddling on their way with ease and 
rapidity the rest of the way, either north or south. 

Thus, as their visitors were many, the loft 
the boys had built in their cabin came to contain 
a richer and richer store, as they placed there the 
furs they secured. Sitting before the fire at 
night they would sometimes estimate their prob- 
able profits, and as they discussed this and other 
subjects, the lads never forgot that their safety 
was the very first thing with which they must 
reckon. In this connection they were glad when 
they learned that Big Buffalo had gone away on 
a hunting trip with a large party of Delawares 
and would probably not return until spring. 

There was another subject which was some- 
times spoken of— the fact that the prowling 
enemy who had killed their horse had not for a 
long time given any sign of being in the vicinity. 

. Out of these talks grew a theory that, perhaps, 
that secret foe was Big Pete Ellis, and that hav- 
ing killed old Jerry he had at last decided that 
his revenge was complete. 

Their health, too, was a matter for daily 
thought with the boys, and remembering that 
they must be careful to guard against needless 


196 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


exposure, but both being hardy and robust, they 
were little troubled. 

So the time passed and all promised well. 
They contrived many traps for the capture of 
fur-bearing animals, and to catch turkeys and 
other game for food. Chief of their traps was 
the dead-fall, made by propping up one end of a 
short piece of puncheon or hewed plank, in sucK 
a way that it would fall upon the animal which 
attempted to secure the bait placed on a trigger 
beneath it. This trigger was a part of the prop 
under the puncheon and gave way at the slightest 
jar. As the plank fell it caught the creature 
which had disturbed it, and being weighted down 
with stones, held its victim fast. 

Wolf pens were also made and very success- 
fully used. These were built of small logs on the 
same principle as a box trap, having a very 
heavy lid which fell, shutting inside any animal 
which entered and attempted to eat the bait 
placed on the spindle, which at the least pull, 
gave way, letting the lid fall. 

The turkey traps were made in the Indian 
fashion. A small, low enclosure was built with 
sticks, a small opening or door being made close 
to the ground. The pen was then covered with 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


197 


brush except for a. passage way leading to the 
door, and along this path beechnuts or other bait, 
were scattered, the trail of nuts extending into 
the enclosure. A turkey finding the food would 
follow it, its head near the ground, enter the pen, 
and having eaten all it could find, would raise its 
head and so be unable to see its way out. 

The boys did not have so much time for 
hunting as they had planned upon, and yet 
scarcely a day passed but one of them sallied 
forth, nearly always coming home with valued 
furs or meat for their table. They found it ad- 
visable that one should remain near the cabin, 
both for its protection from Indians who might 
steal, and to trade with those who passed. Thus, 
while Ree would be spending a day with his axe 
clearing the land near their home, John would 
be miles away, perhaps, rifle in hand, eyes and 
ears alert. 

The next day, perhaps, Ree would have his 
turn at hunting. Every day, too, they visited 
their traps to secure any creatures which had 
been captured and to reset the snares or change 
their location. Wood for the fire must be gath- 
ered, also, and it waa wonderful how great a 
quantity of fuel the big fireplace consumed ; and 


198 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


pine knots from the rocky ravine farther up the 
river, or hickory bark from the hillsides in the 
opposite direction, must be secured every few 
days to afford light for the evenings. There 
were also furs to be cured, and much else to be 
done, all uniting to make the short winter days 
very busy ones, and to keep the long winter eve- 
nings from being tedious. 

Night was the favorite time for baking and 
for the preparation of such dishes as they 
thought they would most enjoy. Many were the 
feasts the young friends had, though their stock 
of supplies included little besides meal and fresh 
meat. At first they had occasionally secured 
beans and squashes from the Indians, but the im- 
provident savages soon exhausted their supplies 
and were themselves dependent on com and 
game. 

December had gone and January was well 
under way when there came a great snow storm, 
which, at the end of a week left drifts piled high 
in all directions. The snow was soft and light 
but so deep that it was well nigh impossible for 
one to make his way through it, and Ree and 
John quickly agreed to occupy themselves with 
work in and near the cabin. They set about add- 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


109 


ing new conveniences to their home, such as 
shelves and cupboards, pegs, etc. They hewed 
and whittled out long, thin hickory slats, which 
they placed lengthwise on the rough bedstead 
they had built in one comer, and found them so 
springy and comfortable to sleep upon, when a 
couple of skins and a blanket had been spread 
over them, that they were sorry they had not 
sooner thought of this improvement. 

John made a broom of hickory splints which 
did its work to perfection, and Ree sharpened 
np his knife and carved from a whitewood block 
several plates and trays to add to their meager 
collection of dishes. Both boys improved the 
opportunity also, while shut in, to give their 
wardrobes attention, making themselves stout 
moccasins, coonskin caps and buckskin breeches^ 

Ree found time during many evenings to 
read again and again the few books he had. John 
was less given to reading, but with much care 
and diligence he managed to make a fife by bor- 
ing a maple stick through from end to end with 
a thin piece of iron from their cart, much of 
which had been carried piece-meal to the cabin. 
Having natural musical talent, he learned to 
play the instrament he thus fashioned, and 


200 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


though Ree had declared, as he practiced, that he 
would surely bring the savages down upon them 
in war paint, he liked the music as well as its 
maker. 

So, for a fortnight the boys were scarcely 
out of sight of the cabin. The weather was bit- 
ter cold much of that time and no Indians came 
near. There at last came a day, however, when 
the wind blew steadily from the southwest, 
bringing with it at night a cold rain. Changing 
to the north, the wind turned the rain to sleet, 
followed by cold weather again. 

“We must have snow-shoes,” said Ree, 
when he saw what was taldng place, and 
the third day the boys ventured forth on such 
contrivances as they had made and did finely 
with them on the thick, slippery crust which had 
formed. Taking their rifles, they made their 
way through the river valley, which, farther up 
the stream, became quite narrow, steep, rocky 
banks rising on both sides to a height of fifty 
feet or more. No sooner had they entered this- 
canyon than they found evidences of deer and 
other animals having taken shelter there. 

Going quietly forward, the lads discovered 
four of the timid, beautiful creatures huddled 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


201 


together. They went quite near before the deer 
leaped away through the frozen snow, and Ree 
quickly brought one down. John did better— or 
worse— killing one and wounding another. They 
secured the skins and choice parts of the meat 
and hanging these in a tree for safety, pushed on 
after the two which had escaped. They especial- 
ly desired to capture the doe which had been 
wounded, not so much for its value, but because 
Ree insisted that it would be downright cruelty 
to let the poor creature suffer from its injury for 
days, perhaps, then die at last. 

But the young hunters traveled far before 
again coming upon the animals they sought. 
The trail took them out of the narrow valley or 
canyon, and a long distance through the woods 
to a locality they had never before visited, where 
the earth was cut by deep ravines, zig-zagging in 
nearly all directions, and great rocks often ob- 
structing the way. Here the trail of the deer they 
were following was lost amid the tracks of others 
which had gone into the deep rugged gullies to 
escape the stinging wind. 

“We may as well give it up, Ree,” said 
John, as they sat down to rest. 

“Oh no, we mustn’t give up,” Ree answer- 


202 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


ed, ‘ ‘ but I ’ll tell you what we ’d better do. It is 
more than likely the Indians will be out in snow 
shoes the same as we are, and they may want to 
swap some dollar furs for penny knick-knacks 
this afternoon. One of us should be at the 
cabin.” 

“I’ll go,” John willingly responded, for he 
liked to trade with the Indians, and could make 
much better bargains than Ree ; not but what he 
was honest, but because Ree was so generous that 
he was often imposed upon. 

‘ ‘ Will you stop for the venison we left in the 
tree?” Ree asked. 

“I think I’d better; there is no knowing 
where you will be when you find that wounded 
deer ! But don ’t stay out all night ! ’ ’ 

With this sally John started homeward, and 
Ree resumed his search for blood-stains in the 
snow which would show him the trail he sought. 
Going about among the rocks he discovered an 
oi>ening about half the size of a door which seem- 
ed to lead straight back into a rocky clilf. 

“Some sort of a cave,” he mused, inspect- 
ing it more closely and looking into it. He saw 
nothing, and, stooping down, ventured in a little 
way. His eyes accustomed to the bright light of 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


203 


the snow, he was unable to see anything in the 
darkness, or he might not have been so bold ; for 
the next moment a chorus of fierce growls caused 
him to retreat. 

“Bears, or wolves— bears, most likely,’’ 
said Ree to himself. ‘ ‘ At least if they are wolves 
there should be tracks about the mouth of the 
cave. I must remember this place.” 

Having first looked about to make sure of the 
exact location of the cavern, and resolving to ex- 
plore it at some future time, the youthful hunter 
hurried on. Under a clump of low pines he pres- 
ently discovered a herd of seven deer. One 
lagged behind, as they fled at his approach, and 
Ree knew at once that it must be the wounded 
animal. He followed at the best pace possible, 
but the deer was soon lost sight of, though the 
poor thing had a difficult time of it to make any 
progress through the crusted snow. 

However, Ree kept to the trail for he was 
sure the doe could not go far ; yet hour after hour 
passed and he saw no hope of accomplishing his 
purpose. Had it not been that the deer was 
traversing a circle, the trail now taking him in 
the direction of the cabin, he would have been 
obliged to give up the pursuit. But now he 


204 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


passed 'througli the ravine where the deer had 
been wounded and up a steep slope towards home. 
By this time the sun was going down, and from 
not far ahead of him Ree heard the howling of 
wolves. If he could have looked but a little way 
into the future, he would have taken the shortest 
route to the cabin. 

However, wolves had never given much 
trouble and Ree had no thought of being afraid, 
though the howling sounded nearer and nearer 
as he continued on. Soon, however, he guessed 
what had happened. The wounded deer, unable 
to escape, had been killed by the fierce dogs of the 
wilderness which were now devouring it. And 
in another minute the boy saw them at their 
awful feast. With anger and foolhardy courage 
he sprang directly among the struggling beasts, 
clubbing them with his rifle. 

Mad with starvation and the taste of fresh 
blood, one big wolf leaped toward the courage- 
ous boy and others followed. He was barely able 
to hold them at bay while he backed away toward 
a tree, swinging his rifle right and left with des- 
perate energy as he went. Closer and closer 
still the wolves pressed him, snapping, snarling, 
howling— their long sharp teeth and red throats 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


205 


being so near that he could almost feel their hot 
breath on his face. But he reached the tree— a 
beech, one of whose lower limbs was almost 
within reach. He leaped upward to seize it, but 
as he did so his rifle caught on a bush and was 
jerked from his hand. A great gray foamy- 
jawed creature snapped closely at his heels and 
by a hair’s breadth he escajped, as he drew him- 
self quickly upward. 

Howling like enraged demons the wolves 
gathered about the tree. They seemed to know 
that sooner or later they would drink human 
blood. Ree thought of this. His only weapon 
was the knife Capt. Bowen had given him, which 
he always carried. But his active brain was busy 
and he determined to take a desperate chance in 
an effort to secure his rifle. 


CHAPTER XV. 


A Maple Sugar Camp in the Wilderness. 

Selecting a stout limb for bis purpose, Eee 
set to work to cut and trim it, making a short, 
heavy club. He believed that if he should jump 
suddenly down among the wolves, their surprise 
would be so great as to keep them away for per- 
haps a second— long enough to permit him to 
seize his rifle, and again fight his way into the 
tree. As he trimmed the thick branch, however, 
an increasing danger presented itself. The un- 
usual howling of the pack and the scent of blood 
were attracting other wolves to the spot. Before 
his club was ready, he had counted seven new- 
comers galloping through the snow to join their 
blood-thirsty brothers. 

To put his life in peril by jumping down 
among so many of the fierce creatures was to run 
a greater risk than Eee thought wise ; but his fer- 
tile brain presented a new plan. He partially 
split one end of his club and securely bound the 
handle of the knife in the opening thus made, 
206 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


207 


with strips of buckskin cut from his clothing. In 
this way he made a strong but cumbersome spear, 
and holding to the lowest branch of the tree, he 
leaned far down and stabbed and slashed at every 
wolf within reach. 

Several were wounded and their yelps of 
pain and rage were added to the hideous, hungry 
cries of the others. Again and again the bold 
boy cut and thrust as the wolves kept coming 
within his reach. The snow was dyed with blood. 
For half an hour the battle was carried on. 

At last by a lucky stroke Eee gave one of the 
howling mass beneath him so deep a cut across 
the neck, that it sprang but a few yards away and 
fell dead, its head half cut otf. At once the oth- 
ers pounced upon the wolf’s body, tearing it to 
pieces, scrambling and fighting in a most horrible 
manner. 

Now was Ree’s chance. He leaped quickly 
to the ground and seized his blood-stained rifle ; 
in another moment he would have been safe. 
But he was so chilled— so stitf from the cold, that 
he missed his hold when first he sprang to catch 
the lowest branch, and before he could try again, 
a monstrous gray wolf dashed toward him. With 
a hungry howl, its jaws dripping blood, it 


208 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


launched itself through the air, straight for Ree’s 
throat. 

Witli wonderful nerve the boy stood his 
ground. He did not falter, nor hesitate. He met 
the hot-mouthed, vicious brute, his rude spear 
clasped in both hands, and drove the blade deep 
in its shaggy shoulder. With an almost human 
shriek and ferocity the wolf sprang sidemse 
under the impulse of the steel’s sharp thrust, 
and the spear quivering in its flesh, was jerked 
from the boys ’ hands. 

Ree ’s first impulse was to run in pursuit, as 
the wolf dashed into the woods, to recover his 
knife ; but in an instant the whole pack was upon 
him again, having made short work of their can- 
nibal-like feast, and only by the greatest dexter- 
ity was he able again to seize his rifle and climb 
to safety, ere they reached him. 

“Now some of you will smart!” the half- 
frozen boy exclaimed, and he clenched his teeth 
in righteous anger. Shot after shot he poured 
into the blood-thirsty brutes, and watched with 
horror as those remaining alive pounced upon 
the dying ones. Four wolves he killed and two 
he wounded, then sat still awhile to catch his 
breath and scrutinize the dozen animals remain- 


PAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


209 


ing, to see whether the one in whose body his 
knife had been carried off, was there. He did not 
see it, though the twilight gloom was now dis- 
pelled by bright moonlight. So, soon he re- 
sumed the terrible execution he had wrought 
among the pack, and was firing as fast as he 
could load, when he heard John’s familiar whis- 
tle. 

‘‘Watch out, John! There are still eight of 
the fiercest wolves you ever saw here I ” he called 
in warning, but almost simultaneously his 
chum’s rifle sounded, and but seven wolves re- 
mained. Another and another went down to 
death and the five which were left, taking fright 
at last, sped away among the timber, howling 
dismally. 

“You had me scared into fits, almost,” John 
cried, as Ree climbed down. “Why, how cold 
you are!” he exclaimed, grasping his friend’s 
hand. “And your teeth are chattering! How 
did it happen any way ? Come along home ! ’ ’ 

“ I ’ll tell you about it ; but we ’d better skin 
the wolves that have not been half eaten, first. 
Bloody as a battle field, isn’t it?” 

“Skin nothing! Come along! It is most 
terribly cold and you are half frozen. We can 
14 


210 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


get the skins in the morning if there is any thing 
left of them. ’ ’ 

For once Ree yielded and when he had re- 
covered his snow-shoes John marched him off at 
a pace which soon put his blood in circulation. 

If ever the young pioneers appreciated the 
rude comforts of their cabin, they did that night. 
It was sweet to feel snug and warm and safe, as 
Ree told the stoiy of his adventure more fully 
than at first; to stretch their weary legs toward 
the crackling fire and lean back in the fur cov- 
ered seat they had constructed. It was pleasant 
to eat a lunch of nu.ts secured from the Indians, 
and venison stealis cut thin and broiled crisp. It 
was comfortable to creep into bed and lie awake 
and talk of their plans; of their friends in far 
away Connecticut; of incidents of their trip; of 
the strange absence of Tom Fish ; of the sad story 
of Arthur Bridges— of many, many things. 

And it was pleasant to watch with half 
closed eyes, the firelight dancing on the rough 
cabin walls, shining in the little looking glass 
near tlie door, showing the rifles within easy 
reach in the comer near the bed ; the two sets of 
pistols in their hostlers on the table they had 
made; the gleaming blades of their axes, beside 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


211 


the fire-place; the books Kee loved so well, ar- 
ranged on a board from the old cart, which did 
duty as a mantel, and John’s fife beside them; 
the frying-pan and their few dishes on and in a 
little cupboard in the corner. It was sweet, too, 
to fall asleep at last and dream of the present, 
past and future— enjoying the perfect rest 
which the fatigue of honest, hard work by those 
possessed of honest hearts must ever bring. 

The boys were very tired this night, partly 
from the unusual exercise of walking so far on 
snow-shoes, no doubt. But they slept soundly 
and were early awake. Directly after breakfast 
they visited the scene of the fight with the wolves. 
They little expected to find anything left of their 
victims, excepting bones, but they greatly desired 
to find the knife which had been Capt. Bowen’s 
present. 

Bones they did find— but nothing else. 
There was every evidence of a ghastly feast haw- 
ing been eaten by the wolves and other animals 
during the night. Even the skeletons of those 
which had been slaughtered, were torn to pieces, 
and for rods around the snow was dyed crimson. 

To cry over spilled milk was no part of Ree ’s 
disposition, and though he deeply regretted the 


212 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


loss of his knife, he did not allow himself to be 
dispirited, though little he thought how import- 
ant a part in their adventures the knife was yet 
to play. 

In their walks about the woods at different 
times, Ree and John had observed that there 
were many sugar maples near their cabin and 
had agreed that they must make some sugar 
when spring came. That very afternoon, there- 
fore, they began preparations. 

Blocks of wood, cut into lengths of about 
two feet, they hollowed out with their axes, mak- 
ing troughs in which to catch the sap of maples. 
The work was tedious and many a trough was 
split and spoiled when all but completed, before 
they caught the knack of avoiding this by strik- 
ing curved strokes with their axes, and not let- 
ting the blades cut in deeply, in line with the 
grain of the wood. 

This work, and the making of spouts by 
punching the pith out of sumac branches occu- 
pied several days. Not all their time could be 
given to it, however, as traps must be visited and 
Indians given attention ; for now that the weather 
was becoming warm the savages came frequent- 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


213 


ly, often with many furs secured during winter 
hunting expeditions. 

“We have made a pretty good living and a 
nice sum of money for each of us, when our furs 
shall have been marketed, and have also made 
ourselves a home,’’ said Ree one day, as they 
were estimating the probable value of their 
stores. “After deducting for all losses, we will 
still have done splendidly if we are fortunate in 
getting the skins to Pittsburg or Detroit and 
working a fair bargain with the buyers. ’ ’ 

“We better get a good canoe Ree, and learn 
to use it ; then we can take the furs from here to 
Detroit by water, traveling along the shore of 
Lake Erie,” John suggested. “Capt. Pipe has 
a couple of fine, big canoes of his own, buried 
for the winter. I believe he would sell us one. ’ ’ 
“We will go and have a talk with him about 
it soon, ’ ’ Ree answered. But it was not for many 
days that the lads found time to do this. 

Fine weather came sooner than they expect- 
ed. The spring of 1791 was one of the earliest 
known to the section which is now Northern 
Ohio. Even in February the sun came out bright 
and warm and the cold winds disappeared. 

John and Ree awoke one morning after a 


214 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


rainy night to find the water high in the river, 
the ice gone and the air as mild as on a day in 
May. 

“Hooray! IVe a mind to take a swim!” 
John shouted, looking with enthusiasm at the 
high water. 

“I wish we had our canoe now,” Kee joined 
in ; “ but I ’ll tell you, old chap, we must get our 
maples tapped, if we are to get any sugar. ’ ’ 

John turned away from watching the swift, 
deep current with a sigh. Somehow he did not 
feel like working; but under Ree’s influence he 
soon forgot his “spring fever” feeling, and with 
a small auger bored holes in the trees. Into these 
holes Ree drove the spouts, placing a trough be- 
neath each one, to catch the sap which at once 
began to flow. 

As all the trees were near the cabin the boys 
might have carried the sap to their fire-place for 
boiling, but as this would necessitate the carry- 
ing of a great deal of wood, they hung their 
largest kettle on a pole laid across two forked 
sticks driven in the ground for that purpose, 
just at the top of the hill near the edge of the 
clearing. 

By noon enough sap was collected in the 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


215 


troughs to make it necessary to begin the boiling, 
and from then. on through all that day and the 
next, one of the boys was constantly busy, keep- 
ing the fire blazing hot and gathering sap to keep 
the kettle well filled, as the water was boiled 
away, leaving only its sweetness. At last they 
added no fresh sap but allowed the syrup in the 
kettle to boil down thicker and thicker making 
in the end, most delicious molasses. 

The boys finished the boiling in the cabin 
that night, and when the syrup had become thick 
enough, they were able by stirring and cooling it, 
to make an excellent quality of sugar. And it 
had been so long since either of them had tasted 
sweets, that the maple ’s fine product was indeed 
a treat. The prospect that tliey would be able 
to make enough sugar to last them until another 
spring, was highly agreeable, and they were 
willing enough to work hard during many days 
which followed. 

One regret the boys had, was that they pos- 
sessed but two kettles, neither of which was very 
large; but they boiled sap in both and found 
that by greasing the upper edges of the vessels 
that they could keep them quite full and still the 
sap would not boil over. 


216 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


They also tried the very primitive method 
■used by the Indians before they had kettles in 
which to make sugar. Several large, nearly 
round stones were washed clean, then heated 
very hot in the fire. With improvised tongs they 
were then lifted into a large keg of cold sap. As 
this operation was constantly repeated, the sap 
was heated and slowly evaporated. 

The process proved so very slow and labor- 
ious, however, that the boys soon abandoned it. 
But while the experiment was being tried, some- 
thing occurred which made John laugh until he 
held his sides. The keg of sap had been heated 
to almost a boiling point, and putting a couple of 
large, hot stones in it both boys left the camp, 
John to gather more sap and Eee to chop some 
wood. 

As John was returning, he discovered a 
young bear prowling about the camp. The ani- 
mal evidently had not been long out of its winter 
quarters and was hungry. It sniffed the sweet 
odor which came from the evaporating maple 
water, and ambled up to the keg. 

Quietly John ran and called Ree, and they 
both hurried softly back just as the bear put its 
nose deep into the hot sap. A squeal of pain 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


217 


followed, and the poor cub nearly turned a back- 
ward somersault, with such sudden energy did it 
take its nose out of the keg. Wild with the smart- 
ing burns the creature rushed blindly about, al- 
most burying its head in the cool leaves and 
earth, and missing its footing, somehow, as it 
approached a steep part of the hill, fell and 
rolled to the bottom, squealing and growling woe- 
fully. Before John could check his laughter, the 
bear had iDicked itself up and trotted swiftly 
away, and Bee was willing to let it go unharmed, 
though he could have shot it. 

This incident set the boys to thinking. 
Bruin evidently knew the smell of honey better 
than of sap. All bears delight in sweet things, 
and Ree said he had no doubt there were bee 
trees in the neighborhood. At any rate, the lads 
decided, it would be well worth while to be on the 
lookout for them as they were about the woods 
during the spring and summer. 

Continued fine weather put an end to the 
maple season. In a fortnight the buds began to 
open on the trees and the flow of sap ceased. 
About this time, too, the Portage trail, not 
far away, was constantly traversed by red- 
skins many of them strangers, and there 


218 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


were daily calls at the cabin of the young Pale- 
faces. So there was much to do ; the spring crops 
must be planted, the pile of furs must be taken 
to market and fences must he completed to keep 
deer and other animals out of the cornfield they 
proposed having. 

There was another thing needing early at- 
tention, and that was the securing of land at the 
junction of the Portage trail and the river. For 
the boys could not hut see how advantageous that 
place would be as a trading point, and they 
wished to build a new and larger cabin there. 
Moreover, as the country was opened up and set- 
tled, the land about so favorable a site for a town 
would probably become veiy valuable. 

“We will go to see Capt. Pipe to-morrow, 
and bargain with him for a canoe, and for some 
land where the trail and the river meet,” said 
Ree one warm March night as they sat on the 
doorstep of their cabin, in the moonlight. 


CHAPTER XVI. 


The Hatred of Big Buffalo. 

The last of the sap had been reduced to 
sugar and made into a fine solid cake weighing 
nearly two pounds, the night that the foregoing 
conversation took place. With this as a present 
to the chief of the Delawares, Ree and John set 
out early the following morning for Capt. Pipe ’s 
town on the lake. 

It was a beautiful day. The red buds on the 
trees were bursting into green, in places, and in 
many sunny spots the spring plants and flowers 
were shooting forth. All nature seemed to feel 
the same joy and freedom the young pioneers felt 
as they journeyed through the valley and over the 
hills toward their destination. Birds were sing- 
ing on every hand. Crows were flying here and 
there and calling lustily to one another from all 
directions. 

Once a young deer bounded toward the boys, 
then, after standing for a moment, gazing with 
great, timid, bright eyes, wheeled and was away 
219 


220 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


again, springing over bushes and logs with a 
showy vigor as though it were out only for a 
spring frolic. A wild turkey hen, wandering 
about in search of a place for nesting, scampered 
softly out of sight as it caught sight of the lads. 
A big woodchuck, fat and lazy, even after its all- 
winter nap, circled around a tree, to whose trunk 
it was clinging, thinking, perhaps, that it was al- 
ways keeping just out of sight of the human in- 
truders upon its forest home, though it was badly 
fooled if such were its opinion. A dozen times 
posed. 

A myriad of ducks flew noisily from a 
either boy could have shot it had he been so dis- 
stream near the lake in which they were feeding 
as John threw a stone among them. He and 
Ree could have killed a score of the wild fowls 
had they wished to do so, but they were in no 
mood for it. They had not set out to hunt, and 
moreover, the fresh, balmy air and invigorating 
sunlight, together with the delightful odors of 
the spring-time, put upon them both a spell— a 
joy in living which made it seem inhuman to 
harm any living creature that day. 

This sense of gladness, of friendship with 
every thing the woods contained, did not, how- 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


221 


ever, prevent the boys from laying plans for the 
capture of certain denizens of the forest’s waters 
—the fish. They had already noticed that the 
lake beside which the Delawares lived, also other 
lakes not far away, and their own river, con- 
tained great numbers of the finny tribe, but they 
had been too busy with other things to try their 
hands at fishing. The opportunity for this fine 
sport, however, caused them to deeply regret that 
they had brought nothing in the line of fishing 
tackle with them. 

“The Indians will surely have hooks, and 
spears, though,” John suggested. 

“If they haven’t, we can make nets and 
spears too; I shouldn’t be surprised if we could 
contrive hooks as well,” Ree answered. 

“I wish we had a big mess of fish for din- 
ner ! ” J ohn exclaimed. “I’m hungry as a bear. ’ ’ 

His wish was realized sooner than he expect- 
ed. As was their custom, the Indians at once 
placed food before their visitors, and the fare 
was just what John had wanted. There was one 
objection— the savages cooked the fish without 
cutting off the heads, but the boys did this for 
themselves. That they could not be over-particu- 


222 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


lar in the wilderness, they had long since discov- 
ered. 

They learned that the Delawares had caught 
the fish with hooks made of bones— evidently 
small wish-bones, and readily saw how they could 
make just such hooks for themselves. 

Capt. Pipe himself had received the boys, 
and it was in his lodge that they were eating. He 
sat nearby gravely smoking his pipe, seldom 
speaking except when spoken to. Gentle Maiden, 
the chief’s comely daughter, was sitting in a 
pleasant, sunny place just outside the bark hut, 
sewing with a coarse bone needle, on some sort 
of a frock, the cloth for which was from the bolt 
her father had secured from the young traders. 

‘‘Pretty as a picture, isn’t she?” John whis- 
pered, glancing toward the Indian girl. “Hon- 
estly, I never saw a white person more beauti- 
ful.” 

Pee made no reply, 'for at that moment Big 
Buffalo put his head into the lodge. The boys 
had not seen him since early winter and both 
arose to greet him ; but he ignored their action, 
and pausing only a second, strode haughtily 
away. 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


223 


‘‘What does that meanr’ John asked in 
surprise. 

‘ ‘ Has the Big Buffalo cause to be unfriend- 
ly T’ inquired Ree of Capt. Pipe, wishing to call 
the chief’s attention to the Indian’s apparent 
hostility. 

‘ ‘ Buffalo heap big fool, ’ ’ Capt. Pipe grunt- 
ed, and then in the Delaware tongue he spoke to 
his daughter, and she arose and took a seat in- 
side the lodge, behind her father. 

This incident filled Ree with misgiving 
though he was not sure enough that he had 
cause for such feeling to mention it at that time. 
John was differently impressed. 

“Why,” he exclaimed, “Big Buffalo is on 
a mighty high horse to-day ! He acts like a child 
that has been told it must wait till second table 
at a dinner! I wonder if there is any love lost 
between him and the Gentle Maiden?” he added 
in a whisper. 

Ree did not answer, but now that they had 
finished dinner, signified their wish to talk to 
Capt. Pipe about buying a canoe. 

The chief said he would make a trade with 
them and asked what the boys had to give. In 
return they asked to see the craft he proposed 


224 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


swapping, and were then conducted to a hillside 
where a canoe had but recently been dug out of 
the dry muck and earth in which it was buried 
over winter to save it from drying, cracking or 
warping. 

Ree and John examined the frail boat of bit- 
ter-nut hickory bark, with much interest. It was 
about eleven feet in length, well constructed, and 
water-tight. With it were a couple of light, nice- 
ly carved paddles. 

John promptly pronounced the canoe a 
“regular macaroni” and laid down a pair of 
brass buckles, signifying that he would give them 
for the skiff. 

Capt. Pipe gravely shook his head. 

“I’ll add this,” said Ree, and laid down a 
brand liew hunting knife, having a leather 
sheath. 

The chief again shook his head, and a large 
number of Indians, who had been lazily basking 
in the sun or idly paddling about the lake, and 
were now gathered around to see the trade, also 
shook their heads. 

“The thing isn’t worth as much as we have 
offered,” cried John, good humoredly, “but I’ll 
put in this,” and he produced a large yellow silk 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


225 


handkerchief, shaking it out, and holding it up to 
view in an attractive manner. 

Still Capt. Pipe shook his head and all his 
braves did the same, though their eyes glistened. 

Ree hesitated before adding more to their 
offer and while he did so, John picked up the 
handkerchief and with no thought but to display 
it to good advantage, turned to Gentle Maiden, 
who stood at her father’s side. With a quiet 
sweep of his hand he draped the bright cloth 
over the girl ’s shoulder and arm. 

The next instant a stinging blow struck him 
in the face and he staggered, nearly falling. It 
was Big Butfalo ’s fist that had shot out at him. 

John sprang toward the burly Indian and 
they grappled in a terrible struggle. All had 
taken place so quickly that before Ree could 
reach John’s side, his friend’s throat was in the 
redman’s grasp and the breath squeezed nearly 
out of him. Capt. Pipe also rushed in, and amid 
the yells of the Indians, the chief and Ree soon 
separated the combatants. 

The incident created so much excitement 
that the young Palefaces scarcely knew what to 
do. But Ree ’s firm voice and quiet dignity, as he 
told the chief that his friend had meant no of- 
15 


226 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


fense, and should not have been assaulted, had a 
quieting influence on the savages, and although 
John could scarcely refrain from speaking the 
angry words he thought, he did manage to hold 
his tongue, and Capt. Pipe soon restored order. 

Big Butfalo slunk away like a whipped dog, 
as the chief berated him, and the boys saw no 
more of him that day. How much better it 
would have been had they never seen him again I 

The bargain for the canoe was completed by 
Ree adding a second handkerchief to their offer, 
as much as a peace offering as anything, and then 
as it was growing late, and the disturbance had 
made the question of buying more land a danger- 
ous one to be brought up, at that time, the boys 
departed. They shook hands with Capt. Pipe 
and the braves standing near, and Fishing Bird 
went with them as they carried their canoe down 
to the water and launched it. 

While pretending to show the lads about 
handling the canoe, this friendly Indian warned 
them to watch out for Big Buffalo ; that he sup- 
posed them to be admirers of Gentle Maiden, 
with whom he was in love, and would kill them 
if he got a chance. Moreover, that he had set out 
to kill them when they first arrived and would 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


227 


have done so but through fear of Capt. Pipe with 
whom they had made peace. 

The information Pishing Bird imparted, with 
the exception of the latter part, was no news to 
the boys ; but it was so disquieting that instead of 
paddling about the lake until evening, as they 
had intended, they crossed the water, carried 
their canoe overland to the river, and went direct- 
ly home. 

J ohn was very blue over what had occurred, 
blaming himself for having caused the trouble. 
Ree was not so much depressed. His nature was 
not one of extremes; he was never hilariously 
merry, never completely dejected. 

“It was no more your fault than my own, 
John,” said he, as they talked of Big Buffalo’s 
display of malice. “You meant no harm, and if 
the ugly fellow had not hated us to start with, 
he would not have taken offense so easily. We 
may have some trouble with him, and again we 
may not. Capt. Pipe will be on our side, I’m 
sure, for you heard what the chief said about the 
rascal. The fact is, that in spite of all the stories 
we have heard about Capt. Pipe and his cruelty, 
he has certainly been friendly with us, and hon- 
est” 


228 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


By talking in this way Ree restored J ohn to 
a happier mood, and they were both quite jolly 
again as they jjrepared and ate their supper. 
They looked forward to many happy days in 
their canoe on the lake and river, and John pro- 
posed to rig up a sail with the canvas which had 
been over their cart, and by doing so to give the 
Indians quite a surprise. 

That evening the boys turned their attention 
to making spears for fishing. They used some 
seasoned hickory which Ree had put in the loft 
during the winter for the making of bows, and 
were able to whittle stout, sharp prongs out of 
that hard, tough wood. It was too late when the 
task was completed, however, to try the spears 
that night, but the boys went to bed promising 
themselves good sport the next evening. 

Although it was still the month of March, 
the early spring of that year enabled the young 
pioneers to begin at once active preparations 
for planting corn, potatoes, beans and squashes. 
The brush cut during the winter was so dry that 
it burned readily, and the green brush was easily 
disposed of also, when piled upon the hot fires the 
dry wood made. In this way the natural clearing 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


229 


was soon rid of the scattered undergrowth upon 
it 

In a week or two the boys were ready to put 
the seed into the ground, digging up a space a 
foot square wherever they planted a hill of beans, 
corn, potatoes or squashes. It was slow work, 
nevertheless, and the sturdy, youthful farmers 
were obliged to toil early and late. 

The coming of Indians frequently inter- 
rupted the boys at their work, and they came at 
last to continue their labor after greeting their 
visitors, unless the latter wished to trade. This 
the redmen liked none too well. They seemed 
to think their Paleface neighbors were devoting 
too much time to agricultural pursuits, and they 
feared and hated any and all things which threat- 
ened to turn their forests into farm lands. But 
Ree and John agreed that, since they had bought 
the land of the Indians, they might as well give 
the former owners to understand, first and last, 
that they meant to do with it as they liked. 

Big Buffalo was among a party which stop- 
ped at the cabin one day. He refused food and 
made himself generally disagreeable. The boys, 
however, ignored his ill humor and by paying no 
attention to him, showed that they neither cared 


230 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


for Ills hatred nor feared him, even though they 
knew there was murder in his heart. 

Frequently strange Indians were among 
those who called and they asked the boys to visit 
their towns, some of which were not many miles 
away, to trade. As all of those Indians traversed 
the Portage trail or path, the boys were reminded 
almost daily of the desirability of securing land 
for a trading post, at the junction of the trail and 
the river. As they talked the matter over and 
looked into the future, more and more did they 
regret that the violent conduct of Big Butfalo 
had prevented their prolonging their bargaining 
with Capt. Pipe on the occasion of their last visit 
to him. 

About this time, also, another reason arose 
for the two friends wishing to visit Capt. Pipe 
again. It was the discovery that he had secured 
some horses. During the winter he had had none 
of which the boys knew. Now, they reasoned, if 
they could buy a horse, they would rig up their 
cart and carry their furs to Pittsburg. It would 
be a much shorter and safer trip than to under- 
take to reach Detroit, and they would require no 
assistance. There was some probability, too, 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. ) 


231 


that among their friends in Pittsburg they might 
get some word concerning Tom Fish. 

It was one night when they had returned 
from fishing, bringing in a great string of rock 
bass, that the lads talked this over, and at last 
concluded to go again to the Delaware town, even 
at the risk of having more trouble with Big Buf- 
falo. 

It seemed like a holiday after their hard 
work when, next day, the boys found themselves 
in their canoe, gliding over the river’s rippling 
waters on their way to Capt. Pipe’s home. They 
carried the craft overland to the lake and soon 
approached the Indian village. 

But suddenly as they drew near, the noise 
of many voices was borne to them by the breeze. 
First loud, then low, the sounds came across the 
water. Bee’s face grew grave, and John, who 
had been whistling, abruptly paused. 

*‘Ree,” he exclaimed, “that is the song of 
the war dance ! ’ ’ 

“It means that the Indians are going on the 
warpath, as surely as we hear it,” was the an- 
swer. “Be on your guard, John. We will soon 
find out just what it means; for we won’t turn 
back now, even if we see the whole tribe in war 
paint.” 


CHAPTER XVII. 


Danger. 

As Ree spoke, a war whoop sounded clear 
and strong, instantly followed by a weird, chant- 
ing song. In a minute or two this ceased, and 
then with fiercer war whoops than before, broke 
out afresh. Quickly the young pioneers floated 
nearer the scene of these warlike outbursts, and 
soon ran the nose of their canoe upon the gravel- 
ly beach. With fast-beating hearts they climbed 
the little bank which rose gradually a few feet 
back from the shore. 

The be ys had approached so quietly, and the 
Indians were so intent on the war dance that their 
coming had not been discovered. And well 
might the lads pause in uncertainty as to the 
manner of the reception they would receive ; for 
now they came into full view of the assembled 
savages— half -naked warriors in paint and fight- 
ing costume, forming a circle and dancing and 
yelling like the wild barbarians they were, while 
old men and young braves and squaws and chil- 
232 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


233 


dren looked on in savage rapture. Before either 
boy could speak Big Buffalo espied them and 
leaped forward brandishing a tomahawk. 

Instinctively Ree seized his rifle in both 
hands, ready for instant action. John did the 
same, and with an ugly leer the Indian paused. 
His action had attracted attention, however, and 
at this critical juncture Capt. Pipe discovered 
the presence of the visitors, and called angrily 
to Buffalo to put up his weapon. 

The chief was in full war costume himself,i 
making anything but a peaceable appearance as 
he met the boys half way, when they obeyed his 
signal to approach. But without a word he con- 
ducted them to a place in the circle of spectators 
gathered around the forty or fifty warriors, and 
at once the dance went on as though there had 
been no interruption. 

With terrible gestures of their arms and 
throwing their bodies into all sorts of warlike 
attitudes, the Indians danced about in a circle, 
striking their feet down with great force as they 
kept time to the beating of two rude drums and 
the uncanny song they sang. With a war whoop 
a dance was begun and continued for about two 
minutes, the outlandish music making the forest 


234 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


ring. Then the singing and dancing stopped and 
the Indians walked more slowly around the cir- 
cle. 

In a minute or so another war-cry would 
sound and the fierce, weird music and dance 
would be resumed. Then some old Indian among 
the spectators would clap his hands, signifying 
that he wished to speak. The dance would cease 
and the dancers walk slowly ’round again, while 
a speech was made. The address would occupy 
only a half minute or a minute perhaps, and then 
with another of the horrifying war cries the 
dancing and singing were started afresh. 

Ree and John might have been a thousand 
miles away tor all the attention that was given 
them at first. 

“Perhaps it is merely a festival dance,” 
J ohn whispered to his chum. 

“ No, it would be given in the evening if that 
were true, ’ ’ was the answer. ‘ ‘ It means the war- 
path, I am sure. ’ ’ 

J ohn was replying that, whether merely for 
entertainment or for war, the dance was enough 
to scarce a civilized person into a trance, when 
Capt. Pipe suddenly clapped his hands and, as 
the music ceased, stepped forward and spoke. 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


235 


All the other speeches had been made in the Dela- 
ware tongue, but the first man of the tribe now 
spoke partly in English. This was for the pur- 
pose of giving them to understand just what was 
going on, the boys were quite certain, and fre- 
quently the chief pointed toward them. 

In substance Capt. Pipe said that the whites 
were encroaching too far upon the lands of the 
Indians and preparations were being made for 
a great union of tribes to drive the ‘‘Long 
Knives” back. He promised to lead a large 
party of his people to join with other Delawares 
and the Wyandots, Shawnees and Miamies in 
a war which, he boastfully said, would secure to 
the Indians again the forests in which the Pale- 
faces had already settled. He referred to the 
defeat of the whites eight years before and the 
burning of Col. Crawford, and said there would 
be scalps and plunder for every warrior who ac- 
companied him. 

John found himself wondering whether the 
Indians might not undertake to whet their appe- 
tites for blood by killing himself and Ree. It 
was of the terrible torture of Col. Crawford 
which Ree was thinking, and he found it hard to 


236 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


keep from hating the savages before him, horri- 
ble and cruel in their war paint. 

And could he have looked but a few months 
into tlie future and have seen the awful carnage 
in which Capt. Pipe and his braves had a promi- 
nent part, at the defeat of General St. Clair near 
Fort Jetferson, in what is now Mercer County, 
Ohio, he could not have restrained his hatred as 
he did. He knew in after years what that battle 
was, and knew that the Indians boasted that their 
arms ached from their work with the scalping 
knife. 

The frightful dance went on when Capt. 
Pipe had finished speaking, his words inspiring 
the warriors with new vigor who now whirled 
around the circle with great rapidity, going 
through all the motions of attacking, vanquish- 
ing and scalping an enemy. At a call from the 
chief, other warriors, who were standing by, 
sprang into the ring, joining in the singing and 
contortions of faces and bodies with furious ener- 
gy. More and more followed as from among the 
dancers Capt. Pipe called from time to time, 
urging all who wished to win renown as warriors, 
and to hang scalps of the hated whites at their 
belts, to join him. 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


237 


Each addition to the whirling, shrieking, 
blood-thirsty band was greeted with thunderous 
whoops and in the end nearly one hundred and 
fifty braves were going through all the barbar- 
ous awe-inspiring motions of the horrid celebra- 
tion. 

Well might Ree and John feel alarm for 
their own safety ; but they looked upon the terri- 
fying scene quite calmly, notwithstanding that, 
as their passions were kindled and their savage 
patriotism aroused by the fervor of the dance, 
the Indians gave them many a glance which was 
far from friendly. 

There were two things which Ree could not 
help but notice as the revel continued ; one was 
that Big Buffalo had not joined the dancers, the 
other that Gentle Maiden kept her eyes down- 
cast or looked away across the lake, not once 
turning toward her father’s painted braves. He 
could not help thinking it strange that the Buf- 
falo had not signified his intention of joining the 
warriors, and sincerely wished the unfriendly 
fellow had done so. There was no other Indian 
whom he had so much reason to dislike, nor one 
whose absence was so greatly to be desired. 

For more than two hours the dance went on, 


238 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


interrupted only when some one— usually an old 
Indian whose fighting days were past— clapped 
his hands as a signal that he wished to make a 
speech. But at last Capt. Pipe called a halt and 
stepped out from among the dancers. With a 
fierce look toward Big Buffalo he demanded to 
know of him why he would not join the war 
party. 

Ree and John could not understand all that 
was said, but they saw plainly that the chief was 
angry. In substance the reason of Big Buffalo 
was that it would not do for all the strong men 
to leave the village ; that some one must remain 
to provide meat for the women and children, and 
to protect the town. 

Capt. Pipe heard these excuses with a scowl 
black as a thunder cloud. His giant frame 
stretched itself to its greatest height and his 
voice was filled with contempt as he flung forth 
but one word : 

“Squaw!^’ 

Perhaps the chief thought, as Ree was at 
that moment thinking, that the Buffalo’s main 
reason for wishing to remain at home, was that 
he might be near Gentle Maiden. But had the 
truth been made known, it would have been 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


230 


shown that the treacherous rascal had other and 
more wicked reasons in his heart, as the young 
settlers were destined soon to learn. 

With a wave of his arm Capt. Pipe dispersed 
his followers as Big Buffalo made no reply to his 
contemptuous outburst. The Indians threw 
themselves on the ground to rest, or went away 
to their lodges to more fully prepare for the war- 
path, and the chief, turning to Ree and John, 
motioned to them to follow. He led the boys to 
his cabin and his wife placed food before them. 
When they had eaten, Capt. Pipe produced pipes 
and all three smoked. It was a silent compact of 
peace, and pleased indeed were the Paleface lads 
that the Indian showed this disposition. 

Though it was not this act of friendship 
which made him bold, for he would have spoken 
in the same way under other circumstances, Ree 
quietly asked Capt. Pipe why he had determined 
to go on the warpath. 

The chief made no answer. 

^‘It is wrong,” Ree continued gravely. 
“You are living here in happiness and security. 
No Palefaces have molested you. Your people 
are contented ; they have but to step into the for- 
ests for an abundance of game ; but to approach 


240 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


the waters for all the fish they may desire. The 
ground yields rich returns from the labor of the 
planting season. The Delawares are well fed and 
well clotlied. Why, then, should they give up 
the hunt and the pleasures of their present pur- 
suits to take up the hatchet? AVhy should they 
seek the lives of others, whether white men or 
redmen? They will only bring sorrow and 
weeping to their own villages, and sorrow and 
weeping in many a Paleface home for those who 
never return. More than this. Chief Hopocon, 
the Great Spirit looks with unhappy eyes upon 
his children who go on the warpath not in de- 
fense of their own, but to kill and murder those 
who have not banned them. ’ ’ 

Knowing Kee even well as he did, John was 
surprised to hear him speak tlius fluently and 
strongly, but he greatly feared his friend had 
been unwise in speaking so boldly. 

For a few seconds Capt. Pipe did not an- 
swer. And then he said: 

‘ ‘ The young brother speaks well, but he does 
not know. His heart is right, but he does not 
know. With the young men who have come 
among us as traders and hunters we have no 
quarrel. They will remain here. They will send 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


241 


no word of the war dance to the forts. Other 
Palefaces are crowding further and further. 
Faster and faster, they are driving the people of 
the forest before them. The young brother does 
not know this. The young brother does not 
know of the word which every day the runners 
bring, which tells of the crowding of the Long 
Knives more and more upon the forest. Now 
must they be warned to come no further. Now 
must they be driven back to the eastward. Else 
the setting sun will be the home of the Dela- 
wares. Too long— too long, have the hands of 
Hopocon and his warriors been idle ; too long— 
too long, have the Delawares borne in silence.” 

Capt. Pipe spoke with emphasis but not vio- 
lently. As he concluded he rose slowly to his 
feet. Kee and John followed his example, and 
with meaning in his gesture far greater than 
words could have expressed, the chieftain mo- 
tioned to them to depart. 

With shoulders thrown back, head erect as 
proud and dignified as the Indians whom he felt 
had thus insulted him Ree turned to leave the 
cabin. But John had no such feeling, nor was 
he so quick to see that Capt. Pipe was offended 

by the words of one whom he probably considered 

16 


242 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


a mere boy. He saw only that the object of their 
visit was not likely to be accomplished and turn- 
ing to the Indian said: “Capt. Pipe, we wanted 
to buy a little more land, and we need a horse. ’ * 

With an impatient, violent sweep of his 
right hand, the chief touched John’s shoulder 
with his left, and pointed across the lake in the 
direction of the cabin by the river. 

Even in this brief time Ree’s temper had 
cooled, and with proud dignity he turned and 
offered Capt. Pipe his hand. The Indian took 
it and also shook hands with John. His manner 
was haughty but not altogether unfriendly. The 
boys still felt that they had nothing to fear from 
him as they walked away. 

Fishing Bird was near by as usual, as the 
lads went down to the water’s edge. He was 
naked to the waist and was bedecked with paint 
and feathers. He looked really fierce as he strode 
up to shove off the canoe, not in his customary 
happy mood, but with cool indifference. He 
spoke to Ree in an undertone as the canoe glided 
free of the beach. 

It was late in the day, and tliis fact taken in 
connection with the unpleasant events of the af- 
ternoon caused the boys to decide to go directly 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


243 


to their cabin rather than to go on to theTus- 
carawas river upon which the Indians were ac- 
customed to travel toward the Ohio^ and which 
the lads had planned to explore. 

‘ ‘ What did Fishing Bird say to you, Ree f ’ 
asked John as they reached mid-lake 

“He said we should watch out for Big Buf- 
falo. 

“ Thunderation ! I wonder if he isn’t jeal- 
ous of Big Buffalo that he is always warning us 
against him? He must know that we know the 
old rogue doesn’t like us, and that is all i^ere is 
of it!” 

“Oh, I guess Fishing Bird means well; and 
I’m sorry enough that Big Buffalo isn’t going 
with the war party. It may be that the chief’s 
daughter has something to do with his remain- 
ing at home, but I do not think Fishing Bird is 
jealous. As for us, why the Buffalo has no rea- 
son to hate us on the girl’s account. We never 
even spoke' to her.” 

“But she has spoken to you, Ree.” 

‘ ‘ Never. ’ ’ 

“Yes, she has— with her eyes.” 

“Wliat nonsense!” Ree ejaculated. “Big 
Buffalo is ugly by disposition and has never for- 


244 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


gotten the mistake I made when I overlooked him 
and supposed Fishing Bird to be in command of 
the hunting party I met that time they made me 
prisoner.” 

Presently the talk drifted to other subjects, 
especially to the disposition of the furs that had 
accumulated, and the plan to take them to De- 
troit now seemed the best to follow. 

“But after all,” Bee suggested, “we may 
be able to get a horse from the Delawares when 
Capt. Pipe and his men have gone. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ No, he is going to take all the horses. They 
will dance and feast to-night, and to-morrow 
they start,” John answered. 

“How do you know that?” 

For a moment there was no answer; and 
then in a hestitating way, “Gentle Maiden told 
me,” John confessed. 

“Oh, ho! You’ve been making love behind 
my back, have you? When did you talk with 
her?” 

“Why, there was no love about it!” ex- 
claimed John with some pretense of indignation. 
“We were only talking as anybody has a right to 
talk. It was while they were dancing. And Bee, 
she speaks better English than her father. The 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


245 


missionaries among the Moravians who were 
massacred several years ago, taught her. And 
she thinks it was right that Col. Crawford was 
burned because of that massacre, too. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ I guess you have talked to the Indian girl 
before to-day, haven ’t you ? Why didn ’t you tell 
me?” 

“She spoke to me first, and I— I didn’t think 
you would be interested. ’ ’ 

Ree smiled but said no more. The canoe 
grated on the lake shore toward their home, and 
the boys took up their task of carrying it over- 
land to the river. 

“We will write some letters to send home 
from Pittsburg ; for I still hope we will be able to 
take our furs there,” said Ree, as they tramped 
along. 

But in those days of more than one hundred 
years ago, as at the present time, none could tell 
what changes another sunrise would bring; and 
neither Ree nor John dreamed of the terrible 
danger which was closing in around them. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 


The Attack. 

For a fortnight the boys gave themselves to 
work upon tlieir little “farm,” attending their 
corn and vegetables, which had now come up and 
were growing finely. They made several ex- 
ploring tours and visited a couple of Indian 
towns within reach, hoping to find a horse. In 
this they were unsuccessful. 

They found that from all the towns a greater 
part of the warriors had gone to the northwest 
for the fighting expected there, and the horses 
had been taken with them. Wandering Mingoes 
who were met gave reports of the same state of 
affairs existing in other villages. Nevertheless, 
the boy pioneers enjoyed these excursions. They 
did some hunting— enough to keep their larder 
well supplied with fresh meat, but most of all, 
they enjoyed the beauties of the woods and waters 
they traversed. In all directions from their 
cabin the scenery was beautiful, but none more 
so than the gorges through which their own river 


246 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


247 


— the Cuyahoga — flowed, two or three miles away 
where the water tumbled over and around great 
stones, splashing and gurgling down little de- 
clivities, till at last it swept over a considerable 
precipice with a rush and tremendous roaring; 
and dashing and foaming, raced on through a 
narrower, stony channel till it came to a wider 
bed in the broad valley where the cabin of the 
traders stood. 

And the river was only a part of the grand- 
eur of the forest scenery. There were immense 
rocks in the narrow valley, many half-hidden 
by mosses and trailing vines. In their shadows 
the wild flowers bloomed and above them the 
trees leaned and wild birds sang. Except for 
the lakes where they floated for hours in their 
canoe, fishing or quietly resting after their labor 
or a hard tramp through the woods, there was no 
spot the boys liked so well as this wonderful val- 
ley. It was not far from their home, and the 
lakes, too, were within reach. 

Indeed, in all their travels the young men 
found no location more desirable for their home 
than the spot they had chosen, except the one 
they hoped to secure at the junction of the Port- 


248 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


age trail and the river. Much they regretted 
having failed to secure land there. 

The lads talked of this one evening before 
their cabin, and then fell again to discussing a 
plan of marketing their furs. 

‘ ‘ If only Tom Fish were here to act as our 
guide, I wouldn’t hesitate about starting for De- 
troit at once, ’ ’ said Ree. 

“I dreamed about Tom, last night, Ree; I 
forgot to tell you,” John answered. “I thought 
I saw him and Big Pete Ellis standing where we 
stood when Capt. Pipe told us to go, and Tom 
was pointing the way just as the chief pointed. 
Then Big Pete disappeared and I dreamed I saw 
Tom and Big Butfalo wrestling. ’ ’ 

“The furs should bring us over three hun- 
dred dollars,” said Ree, not paying much atten- 
tion to John’s account of his dream. “We could 
afford to pay Tom, or any good guide and helper, 
well. I wonder what has become of him. ’ ’ 

“I wonder whether he has found Arthur 
Bridges? That scalp is still hanging in Big 
Buffalo’s lodge,” said John, thinking of the mis- 
sion which had brought the old hunter into the 
woods with them. 

Thus the evening was spent in talk while 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


249 


the moon rose over the trees, looking down upon 
the lonely cabin so far from civilization, so beset 
by unseen dangers, softly and gently as though 
the peaceful scene were never to be disturbed. 

There was no sign of the awful conflict draw- 
ing near. There was no omen of the bloodshed 
soon to come. A gray wolf lurking in the for- 
est’s darkness, howling at the moon, some night- 
bird’s scream were all that broke the pleasant 
harmony of nature’s sounds. All visible things 
gave promise of a quiet, perfect night. No 
thought of the eyes of redmen who grimly 
watched from the darker shadows, came to the 
minds of the young pioneers. They had no pre- 
monition of disaster as they went inside at last, 
closed the door, drew in the latch-string and went 
to bed. 

Higher and higher the moon rose, its chang- 
ing position in the sky telling of the passing of 
the night. An hour before dawn its light went 
out, as it sank behind the westward • trees and 
hills, and thick, black darkness came. 

Stealthily a dozen dusky figures left the 
woods and moved quickly and quietly across the 
clearing and up the rise of ground to the silent 
cabin. They paused before the little house and 


250 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


two raised huge stone tomahawks above their 
shoulders to strike together a tremendous blow 
and break in the door. 

“Ugh/’ a savage grunted. It was the sig- 
nal. The tomahawks came down with terrific 
force. The crashing noise filled all the valley. 

Violently awakened from a sound sleep by 
the terrifying sound and the jar, Ree Kingdom 
leaped from his bed, instantly followed by John 
J erome. 

‘ ‘ Robbers ! ’ ’ the latter ejaculated in a scared 
whisper. 

“Indians!” cried Ree, seizing his rifle, as 
another terrible blow nearly shattered the door; 
and before he could reach a loophole, still other 
stone hammers rained upon the stout oak pun- 
cheons and in a second ’s time sent the whole com- 
pact mass flying from the hinges. 

At the same instant Ree fired^ and with a 
pistol in each hand, John’s shots came like a 
double echo. 

Amazed that the door had not yielded at the 
first double, gigantic blow upon it, bewildered 
by the consequent failure of their plan to rush in 
and seize the young Palefaces ere the lads had re- 
covered from surprise, the Indians seemed terror- 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


251 


stricken as one of their number fell, and they 
sped away in the darkness. 

The attack, the repulse of the savages and 
the restoration of perfect quiet when they had 
fled, had consumed less than a minute. Save for 
the door hanging by a part of a single hinge, and 
the damp night air blowing cold upon their faces, 
the boys could easily have thought they were 
both the victims of some horrid dream or night- 
mare. But there was no time to doubt whether 
they could believe their senses. 

“Help get the door up! Quick, John!’^ 
Bee’s voice was firm and fearless, and his chum 
sprang to do his bidding. 

The door was quickly in place again, and 
propped tightly shut with the rough, but stout 
ladder which was used in climbing to the cabin 
loft. Its hinges were broken and the bar of 
wood which formed the latch, lay on the floor in 
splinters ; but the strongly made door itself had 
undoubtedly saved the boys’ lives and, secured 
as it now was, could withstand another just such 
vigorous attack, should one be made. 

This, however, the two friends hoped to 
guard against. They knew their assailants were 
Indians, but could guess no more. Why they 


262 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


had been attacked they could not tell, and al- 
though they hoped that the enemy was only a 
band of thieving redskins bent on robbery, who 
would not make another attack after failing so 
completely in the first attempt, they were deter- 
mined to be as vigilant as if the assault were cer- 
tain to be renewed in another moment. 

“Get into your clothes, John,” Ree urged, 
not taking his eyes from the loop-hole through 
which he watched, “then take my place, while I 
dress. ’ ^ 

John was dressed in a minute and Ree need- 
ed no greater length of time for the same task. 
It was still pitch dark outside as well as in the 
cabin, but with their ears wide open to detect the 
slightest sound, the boys felt that they could be 
sure of discovering any one who approached. 
Soon daylight would come and they then would 
learn whether the savages were still lurking near. 

That the redskins might have not the least 
knowledge of their movements, nor be able to see 
to fire into the cabin loop-holes, the boys kindled 
no fire ; and having stationed themselves, one in 
each of the front corners of their little house, 
thus commanding a view of the three sides from 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


253 


which approach was possible, they spoke only in 
whispers, as they watched and waited. 

Not far away— just in the borders of the 
woods, beyond the little corn-field, there was 
every evidence that the young pioneers would 
not wait in vain for the battle they expected. Big 
Buffalo and a party of Mingoes crouched in the 
darkness and the former’s rage was terrible. In 
angry, scornful tones he berated his savage ad- 
herents for having fled from the cabin. For it 
was his plan which had been thwarted by the 
thickness and strength of the door the clever 
white boys had put up, and he little liked the 
prospect of an open fight, even with the odds so 
greatly in his favor. 

A principal reason for this lay in the fact 
that the Buffalo himself, did not wish to appear 
in the battle. Knowing that the young Palefaces 
were under the protection of Capt. Pipe, he dared 
not openly attack them. He had, therefore, en- 
listed the services of a party of roving, merciless 
Mingoes, promising them rich plunder from the 
cabin if they would make the attack and carry off 
the boys and their property, leaving the place in 
such condition that it would appear that the lads 
had voluntarily packed their belongings and de- 


254 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


parted. On this account the attack was made at 
night and in the manner related. He had kept 
in the back-ground himself, not wishing to be 
seen by the brave youths he hated, until they were 
securely bound, and their death so certain to 
speedily follow, that there would be no danger 
of their ever telling either Capt. Pipe or Gentle 
Maiden, of his treachery. 

But now the blood boiled in Big Buffalo’s 
veins. He no longer cared whether the boys 
should see and recognize him or not. He was de- 
termined that they must die, and if they were 
killed in their cabin and Capt. Pipe should hear 
of it, he would kill his own chief, he decided, if 
the latter made much ado over his action. 

And so the cruel Redskin and his hired 
murderers watched and waited. If the Pale- 
faces attempted to leave the cabin they would 
have the lads at their mercy. If, when daylight 
came, and all was still, the door was opened, they 
would still remain in hiding, and bide their time 
to strike from cover, like a snake hidden in tall 
grass. 

A thing which happened soon after daylight, 
however, changed Big Buffalo’s plan entirely. 
As they lay in the utter darkness of the woods. 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


255 


the Mingo brave who had been shot and wound- 
ed, felt himself to be dying. He thought only of 
one thing— revenge. What cared he for this 
Delaware whom they called Big Butfalo, or for 
his plans ? He was dying and he would slay the 
one who shot him, though it took his last breath. 
And without a word to his companions, and un- 
observed by them, he crawled noiselessly away, 
and from a distant point, close to the river, crept 
with most painful care and patience toward the 
cabin, just visible in darker outlines against the 
blackness of the sky. Not a sound did he make, 
and neither the Buffalo nor the Mingoes noticed 
his absence. 

Slowly came the gray dawn of morning. No 
sound was heard save the singing of birds and 
the cawing of a colony of crows. As the day- 
light grew rapidly brighter, Bee watched, going 
from one loop-hole to another, while John kindled 
a fire, which would not now increase their dan- 
ger, and prepared a meager breakfast. Whether 
there was to be fighting or not, the boys were well 
aware that they must eat to keep up their 
strength, and they realized too, that an empty 
stomach is very poor company. Still all was 
silent. 


256 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


‘ ‘ I am going to put my cap on a stick, open 
the door an inch or two, and hold it as though 
I was looking out,” said John. “It will draw 
their fire, may be, if the heathen are watching 
us.” 

‘ ‘ It will do no harm, at least, ’ ^ said Eee, and 
with his cap, which, during the winter, he had 
gaily ornamented with squirrels’ tails, on the 
end of the wooden poker, J ohn removed the lad- 
der which served as a prop. Gently he allowed 
the morning sunlight to stream in— an inch— two 
—four— six inches. 

Then suddenly as a lightning flash a blood- 
curdling yell rent the air. The heavy door was 
pushed violently inward and fell with a crash. 

As Ree and John in utmost surprise sprang 
quickly back, the wounded Mingo, struggling in 
the arms of death from the energy he had mus- 
tered to throw down the door, staggered toward 
them with uplifted tomahawk, as he tried to give 
another war cry. His face was horrible to be- 
hold as he strove for yet enough of life to ac- 
complish his revenge, and tried again to emit a 
yell of victory. But the sound died in his throat, 
his tottering legs gave way beneath him, and he 
fell in a heap— dead. 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


257 


One swift glance had told Ree the situation ; 
and as he saw the savage already in death’s 
clutches, he quickly drew John back beyond the 
Mingo’s reach, and restrained him from wasting 
a bullet on the poor wretch whose spirit had 
so nearly fled. But in another moment the fierce 
warwhoops of other Indians were heard just out- 
side the cabin. 

With a cry of alarm John leaped over the 
prostrate form of the dead savage to raise the 
door to its place again, but it was weighted down 
by the body of the Mingo; and although Ree 
made haste to remove the latter, he was too late. 

Big Buffalo and his party, attracted at once 
by the vengeful cry of the warrior whose ab- 
sence they had not until then discovered, had 
rushed swiftly across the clearing and up the hill. 
With terrifying yells of rage and vengance, the 
foremost members of the band sprang into the 
cabin. 

Wildly excited by the fiendish cries, John 
grappled with a half -naked fellow whose toma- 
hawk he narrowly escaped, and Ree sent another 
to the floor with a shot from his rifle. With a 
pistol he so wounded a third that the fellow 
sprang from the door, Ree following. Big Buf- 

17 


258 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


falo saw the boy and fired. The bullet grazed 
Ree’s scalp, and, clutching his rifle, he turned 
towards the furious Delaware. He parried a 
blow from the Buffalo’s tomahawk and desper- 
ately leaping upon him, bore the Indian’s hide- 
ously painted body to the ground. 

John, with an ugly knife wound in his arm, 
escaped from the Mingo with whom he was strug- 
gling inside the cabin, and dashed through a 
number of savages just entering the door. In- 
stantly he comprehended Ree’s desperate situa- 
tion, and, intending to draw off the other Indians, 
in hope that his friend could master Big Buffalo 
if the latter had no help, he started to run around 
the cabin, certain that in a foot race he could win. 
And as he had expected, he was pursued ; but his 
plan was thwarted, for a quick-witted brave 
dashed around the little house in the opposite 
direction, followed by two others. 

A little cry of surprise came from John’s 
lips as he reached the narrow ledge between the 
west wall of the cabin and the high perpendicu- 
lar bank dropping down to the river, and saw 
three Mingoes dash around the comer ahead of 
him, their tomahawks raised to strike out his 
brains. 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


269 


Like a flash he realized the deadly peril of 
his position ; but he did not hesitate or falter. As 
though he had raced to the spot expressly for the 
purpose, he launched his body into the air with 
lightning-like rapidity; straight out, then down 
—down— like a flash he flew, and the turpid 
waters of the river were rushing over him before 
the savages caught their breaths to send forth 
piercing cries of baffled rage and hate. 

Disappointed and tremendously surprised as 
they were, the Mingoes acted quickly. Two re- 
mained to fire at the helpless boy the moment he 
appeared above the current, the others imme- 
diately ran to aid Big Buffalo ; but their help was 
not required. A savage had already seized Ree 
from behind, and with his hands clutching the 
lad’s throat, choking him until his eyes bulged 
out, dragged him backward and held him down. 


CHAPTER XIX. 


The Gauntlet. 

If Ree had had the strength of a horse, his 
struggles to free himself must have been useless, 
with Big Buffalo and two Mingoes bearing him 
heavily to the earth, and he ceased resisting. 
Even then the Indians pressed their knees and 
fists upon his body with vicious cruelty, and a 
fourth savage kicked him repeatedly. 

But the unhappy boy scarcely felt the blows 
and bruises as he was half dragged, half carried 
away from the cabin to the foot of the slope. 
For his thoughts were of John whom he be- 
lieved to be still struggling in the cabin, if he 
were not already dead. He longed to go to his 
chum’s assistance, and struggled partially to his 
feet. 

As if they read his thoughts, however, the 
Indians bore him down again, and while Big 
Buffalo knelt astride his body, two Mingoes tied 
his hands and feet so tightly that blood ran from 
his wrists and ankles. 


260 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


261 


Through all this torture not a word of pain 
or complaint escaped Ree’s lips. So intently 
was he listening for some sound which might tell 
him how John had fared, that he hardly noticed 
his own pain or thought of his own danger. The 
sudden attack, the fight and his capture had taken 
place so quickly that he did not yet realize all 
that had happened. 

As the minutes passed, however, and he 
heard nothing of his companion, the full extent 
of the terrible disaster which had overtaken him 
and his most loved friend slowly dawned upon 
the lad. That John was dead seemed certain; 
that death by torture awaited himself, he had no 
doubt. And this would be the end of all their 
plans to deal fairly with the redskins and win 
and retain their friendship ; the end of their long 
cherished hope to build homes for themselves 
and become respected and useful citizens in the 
new western country ; the end of a thousand am- 
bitious thoughts of the pride they would have in 
returning to Connecticut some day, crowned with 
success. Gloomy indeed were Ree’s reflections 
and by no means in keeping with his usual un- 
daunted, detennined disposition. He thought of 
his friends in the east and the assertion he Rad 


262 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


laughingly made that he would return with a 
whole skin and a whole heart. He smiled in a 
grim, unhappy way as he remembered the boyish 
boast, and a Mingo, larger and uglier than the 
rest, mistaking his smile for one of defiance, 
struck him a cruel blow upon the face. 

Maddened with sudden anger Ree fiercely 
struggled to free himself ; but it was no use, and 
he soon lay quiet again. 

The brutal blow he had received served the 
purpose, however, of rousing the boy from the 
despondent state into which he had sunk, and he 
became once more his own alert, quick-witted self. 
Hope came to him. He resolved to escape sooner 
or later, and his faith in himself was so firm when 
his mind was set upon a purpose, that he at once 
felt strong and courageous as was his usual state. 

With this brighter feeling came also the 
thought that John might have escaped, after all. 
He knew that Big Buffalo had hurried away to 
join some Mingoes who had started down the 
river, and decided that they were probably 
searching for his chum. Time was passing and 
there was no sound of their returning. This was 
surely a bright indication. 

Three Mingoes guarded Ree zealously, one 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


263 


sitting at each side and one standing near his 
feet, as they waited. All was quiet. Except for 
the wide-open doorway, the little cabin of the 
bluff looked home-like and cozy as of yore. There 
was no sign of the dreadful struggle which had 
taken place, save the dead bodies of two Indians 
which had been carried into the shade of the 
woods near by. The birds were singing joyous- 
ly as ever. Insects hummed, and a slight breeze 
gently stirred the air. So the forenoon passed. 

At last Big Buffalo and three of his savage 
allies returned. Where the other two or three 
(Ree did not know exactly which) were, was not 
a difficult question. Undoubtedly they had either 
remained to search for John or else had dragged 
him off to torture or captivity. Ree noticed with 
an inward sense of pleasure that one of the In- 
dians who returned, was severely wounded. He 
was the brave with whom John had fought inside 
the cabin. There was a knife-thrust in his side. 

At a word from Big Buffalo all the Mingoes 
bounded up the hill and began to loot the empty 
cabin. The Buffalo himself, silent and moody, 
guarded the prisoner. However, the ransacking 
of the house, so difficult to build, so quickly 
robbed of its best treasures, occupied only a few 


264 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


minutes. Ree saw with some satisfaction that the 
savages carried off comparatively few furs, 
though they secured many articles of no less 
value. 

Making a considerable quantity of these 
things into a heavy pack, as they returned, to the 
foot of the hill, the Indians commanded Ree to 
rise, and they fastened the bundle upon his back. 
Then with scarcely a word they removed the 
thongs from the boy’s feet and ordered him to 
march. 

With one more anxious look in all directions, 
hoping, yet fearing, to see some sign of his 
friend, Ree stepped into the place to which he 
was pushed, between Big Buffalo and the partic- 
ularly ugly Mingo, previously spoken of, and the 
march began. Although his hands were still tied, 
it was a relief to be upon his feet again, and now 
he considered that, since there was some likeli- 
hood that John had escaped, he had but to secure 
his own liberty to be himself again. 

To almost any other person the prospect 
would have appeared dark indeed. To Return 
Kingdom it was not so. Had he been sure that 
his loved chum was alive and free, he could have 
felt that there was nothing more to cause him 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


265 


worry. But if John were dead— oh, he would 
rather— far rather— that it had been himself 
whose life had gone out. For he had brought the 
younger lad into this wild country, and even more 
than if they had been brothers, he felt, he was re- 
sponsible for all that happened to him. 

Many other thoughts came to the captive 
boy as the procession of warriors moved silently 
through the woods along the river. Once he 
caught sight of two Indians in the rear. Bfech of 
whom carried over his shoulder the body of one 
of the two who would walk or wake never more. 
The burdens were heavy and partly on this ac- 
count the savages marched slowly; but they 
came, about the middle of the afternoon to a 
slight bend in the river where, beneath some over- 
hanging willows two large canoes had been sunk 
in the water. These they quickly raised and pre- 
pared to continue their journey in them. 

Again Ree ’s feet were tied, and as an addi- 
tional precaution against his escape, a strip of 
rawhide was tied about his neck and the other 
end made fast to the bonds about his ankles, 
obliging him to remain in a most uncomfortable 
attitude, bent nearly double. 

Where were they going? Ree asked himself 


266 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


this question but onoe. He had no doubt that it 
was to some Mingo village that they were travel- 
ing, and he was well aware of the fate which 
probably awaited him. The barbarous torture— 
death at the stake— which he had once seen pic- 
tured, was clear in his mind ’s eye, and far from 
pleasantly did he contemplate it. His head was 
aching violently from the scalp wound he had 
received, the toilsome march under his heavy 
load and the cramped position in which he now 
was forced to lie, but he kept his courage up by 
forming plan after plan for escape. Once, in the 
remote hope that John might somehow be near 
and hear him, he whistled the shrill call they had 
both so long known. He received for doing so a 
savage blow upon his throbbing head, struck 
with a canoe paddle. 

Then Ree remained quiet, but his mind was 
active and he was glad that it was nearly dark. 
Soon the Indians turned their canoes into a good- 
sized creek flowing into the river from the west, 
continuing their way up this stream between high 
frowning banks, until darkness overtook them. 
At a spot where the steep bluffs above the water 
sloped down more gradually, they went into 
camp. 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


267 


Eagerly Ree waited for an opportunity to 
slip away, as the preparations for the night were 
in progress, but he found none. The strap about 
his neck was loosened, but another was tied about 
his waist and its ends then fastened about the 
arms of two savages between whom he lay down, 
after they had all eaten sparingly of dried veni- 
son. 

The same desire to save his strength which 
had prompted Ree to eat the food given him, 
though it was fed into his mouth as though he 
were a dog, caused him to try to sleep and secure 
needed rest. He wished to forget for a time the 
danger he was in and to think with a clearer mind 
when he awoke, of plans for deliverance. Well 
he realized the necessity of awaiting with pa- 
tience the coming of the opportunity which, he 
felt, must come to every man who sets his teeth 
in unyielding detennination. 

Desirous as he was of securing rest, Ree was 
unable to sleep, except for brief intervals of un- 
easy dreaming, and he welcomed the coming of 
the morning though he knew that that very day 
might be his last; for his trust was in an all- 
wise Providence and in his heart was a calm 
faith that if he should not be able to escape, he 


268 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


could endure whatever torture the savages in- 
flicted without a groan. So he bore himself with 
a cool courage that made the Mingoes wonder, 
as they prepared at sunrise to continue their jour- 
ney. And still the looked-for opportunity to 
make a dash for freedom did not come. Soon the 
Indians and their prisoner were again toiling up 
the stream in the canoes, and as before Ree was 
bound down in a tortuous position. 

At the end of a couple of hours’ travel, the 
stream became too shallow for the canoes, which 
were then run in under some overhanging bushes 
and sunk. Once more a heavy load was hung 
upon the captive’s shoulders and moving for- 
ward on foot again, tlie party climbed the bluffs 
and struck off through the forest. 

It was nearly noon when the Indians halted. 
They were within a mile of some village, for now 
they fired guns and sent one of their number 
forward to announce their arrival. In an hour a 
score of Mingoes came to meet the war party, 
rejoicing over the capture of a prisoner, and 
mourning for the two dead warriors by striking 
and kicking the boy captive. Then the journey 
to the town was continued ; but to give assurance 
to all that the prisoner was to be burned at the 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


269 


stake, he first was stripped to the waist and his 
face and body painted black. 

It was with genuine difficulty that Ree per- 
suaded himself to patiently bear the indignities 
heaped upon him yet a little longer, rather than 
to fight so stubbornly then and there that he 
might be killed by a bullet and so escape torture. 
One thought helped him to do this. It was, that 
he would undoubtedly be made to run the gaunt- 
let, and at that time he might break through the 
lines and trust to his legs to carry him to safety 
before he could be recaptured. 

But sore disappointment was in store for the 
lad. The most cruel practice of forcing a captive 
to run the gauntlet with his hands bound behind 
him, was resorted to. 

Before the brush and bark lodges of what 
appeared to be a temporary village, warriors 
young and old, and squaws as well, rejoicing 
fiendishly, ranged themselves in two parallel 
rows a few feet apart. They were armed with 
whips, clubs and pointed sticks, and looking 
down the lines of cold, cruel faces which watched 
expectantly, as Big Buffalo and another held him 
ready to give him a shove among his tormentors 
when all were ready, Ree could not see one friend- 
ly eye. 


270 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


“It is now or never,” the tormented lad 
mentally told himself, and in the faint hope that 
John might have escaped and followed him to 
attempt a rescue, and to give him notice to be 
near, if this were true, he whistled their old, 
familiar call. His dry, cracked lips almost re- 
fused to do their part, but loud and shrill the 
sharp, peculiar notes rang out. As though an- 
gered by the sound, Big Buffalo at the same mo- 
ment gave the captive a violent push into the bar- 
barous gauntlet. 

Instantly an Indian youth of about Ree^s 
age, sharply prodded the boy with a piece of 
pointed hickory, and another struck his bare back 
with a bunch of briars. Others used clubs and 
whips most viciously as the prisoner darted 
among them. 

At the instant he started Eee had noticed a 
savage half way down the line on the left, with a 
heavy knotted club upraised, and as he sprang 
forward he kept his eyes on that red brute. 
Swerving sharply to the right, he suddenly turn- 
ed and sprang to the left as he reached this fel- 
low, hurling his body feet foremost, directly 
against the Indian’s stomach. 

With a yell the Indian fell beneath his feet, 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


271 


and the horrible cries of the other savages ring- 
ing fiercely in his ears, Ree leaped over his vic- 
tim and dashed madly toward the woods two hun- 
dred feet away. Only a quarter of the distance 
had he covered, however, when a giant white 
man with long uncombed hair and beard and un- 
couth Indian dress, bounded suddenly into his 
path, caught him about the shoulders and, in 
spite of the lad’s desperate resistance, flung him 
to the ground. In another instant a score of sav- 
ages pounced mercilessly upon him. 

Without more ado Ree was dragged bodily 
away, and in a few minutes securely bound to a 
small tree about which a shelter of poles had been 
erected. There he was kicked and spit upon by 
squaws and even children, till, worn out and dis^ 
spirited, he partially lost consciousness. He 
thought that death itself would seem welcome. 

The giant white man— white by nature, 
though plainly an Indian by choice— had given 
Ree no attention from the moment he had hurled 
him to the earth. He approached the well-nigh 
insensible boy, however, when the squaws had 
grown weary and departed, and saying a few 
words in the Mingo tongue to the savage who 
stood guard, the latter walked away. 


272 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


Who was this white man? Ree recovered 
sufficiently to interest himself in the question. 
Was it Simon Girty, the renegade, of whom he 
had often heard? 

Contemptuously the giant fellow looked at 
the captive, then bestowing a kick upon him, 
turned his face away. But he remained near the 
enclosure, and in a coarse but not loud, under- 
tone inquired : 

‘‘Where be ye from?” 

Ree did not answer. He cared to have 
nothing to do with such a human monster. 

“Be ye from Connecticut?” the man asked 
in a somewhat gentle tone. 

‘ ‘ From Bruceville, ’ ' was the answer. 

‘ ‘ Huh ! Ever hear o ’ Jim Huson ? ’ ’ 

“I know him.” 

“Dead?” 

‘ ‘ No, he was hurt, but was getting well, the 
last I knew.” 

“Huh! Don’t speak so loud, boy! Ever 
hear o’ Peter Ellis— Big Pete, they called him?” 

‘ ‘ I knew him by sight and I— I think ’ ’ 

“Never you mind what you think; I’m him 
—I’m Pete Ellis, if that’s what ye was a goin’ to 
say.” 


CHAPTER XX. 


Flight. 

Instantly Ree recalled the flight of Big 
Pete and the part he had had in the attempt to 
capture the fellow. He was sure the giant white 
man must have recognized him in spite of his 
blackened face and body, and his hopes fell. Was 
the renegade revealing his own identity only to 
make his revenge on him for his part in driving 
him out of Connecticut, the sweeter? 

Big Pete seemed to read Ree’s thoughts. 

“Oh, I rec’lect the last time I seen ye boy! 
Guess ye ain’t fergot hev ye?” he said, almost 
contemptuously. 

“No, and I should do the same again.” 
Ree ’s voice was coolly defiant. 

‘ ‘ Huh ! Think I lay what ye done that night 
up again’ ye, do ye?” Then sinking his voice 
almost to a whisper the outlaw continued in a 
very different tone: “But I don’t; I’m a goin’ 
to set ye free.” 

Remembering how harshly he had thought of 
273 


18 


274 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


the big fellow who now spoke so kindly, but a 
minute before, Ree could not at once reply. 

‘ ‘ I will owe my life to you, ’ ’ he said present- 
ly, however, “I did only what I thought right 
that night last fall— the night— you went away.” 

“I’m a goin’ to tell ye somethin’, boy.” 

Before he said more the fugitive from Con- 
necticut’s laws strode up and down a few min- 
utes, and made a pass at the captive with the butt 
of his rifle. Ree perceived why this was done, as 
an old, but very large dignified Indian strutted 

by- 

“There’s a tough old warrior j a chief of the 
Six Nations, the old League of the Iroquois. I 
didn’t want him to see me talkin’ to ye,” Big 
Pete continued when the Indian had passed on. 
Before he could speak further, however, there 
came other interruptions, the prisoner being al- 
most in the center of the Indian camp which was 
in a small clearing. 

After a time, the day being very warm, near- 
ly all the savages sought out the shady places, 
none of which were near the captive. Then Big 
Pete appearing to look at the captive only occa- 
sionally went on : 

“I was sayin’ I had somethin’ to tell ye. 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


275 


D'ye know how I knew ye? It was by yer whis- 
tle. I he 'erd it the night we had our hoss race—. 
If 't hadn’t been fer that, I wouldn’t ’a’ known 
ye. Good thing I did rec ’lect right away an ’ turn 
around in time to stop ye when ye lit out through 
the ga’ntlet. Ye’d never a’ got away an’ they’d 
’a ’ killed ye. Now I ’m goin ’ to tell ye what I hed 
to say ; 

“I didn’t even allow as Jim Huson was 
killed, but it did worry me some. What makes 
me mad is them Connecticut mush-heads thinkin’ 
they’ve run me out o’ the country. So I’m goin’ 
to get you free, an’ ye’ve got to go to Bruceville 
an ’ tell everybody as how ye seen me oif west— 
that I was a livin ’ on the fat o ’ the land and hed 
got rich bein’ chief o’ the Mingoes. Tell ’em ye 
was captured an’ I, bein’ the chief, set ye free. 
Tell ’em I said I was cornin’ back to Connecticut 
some day, an’ marry the purtiest girl in Bnice- 
ville, an ’ buy the biggest farm in the country an ’ 
make folks take off their hats to me— or I’ll 
horsewhip ’em. An ’ ye ain ’t to tell a soul a thing 
but what I ’ve told ye. ’ ’ 

The outlaw’s manner had become fiercely 
energetic, though he spoke very low. It was 
plain that he had planned long on doing just 


276 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


what he wished Eee to say he had done, and was 
going to do ; but seeing no prospect of realizing 
his hopes, he wished to taunt his old enemies by 
making them fear his return. 

“But what you say isn’t true, is it?” Bee 
asked in a quiet, friendly way. “You are not a 
chief?” 

“Huh! True? Course ’tain true! D’ye 
spose I ’d he living here with the dirty Mingoes 
if ’twas true? D’ye s’pose I’d be over-fed one 
day an’ starved the next, an’ sleep on the ground, 
pretendin’ I like these bloody butchers, if I was 
rich, or their chief? But that ain’t the p’int. I 
want them Bruceville saints to be afraid of me— 
to talk about me, an’ be expectin’ me back. It 
don’t matter if I don’t ever come! They’ll be 
afraid of me all the while ! ” 

‘ ‘ If you don ’t like this life with the Mingoes 
why don’t you leave it?” asked Bee in his friend- 
ly, earnest way. 

“Huh! Leave it? What to do? Starve to 
death? Will ye do what I want ye to? Ye go 
free to-night, or ye go on the fire to-morrow ! But 
mind ye hev to swear not to tell anything but 
what I want ye to ! ” 

For a little time Bee forgot his own suffer- 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


277 


ing and danger— forgot John and all else as he 
pondered on the terrible life of the one who made 
this strange request of him. Here was a man 
dragging out an existence that he hated, all for 
what? Because he had committed crimes and 
fled, and was now afraid to ‘ ‘ face the music. ’ ’ 

“Pete Ellis,” said the boy at last, slowly 
and solemnly, “you are wearing your life out in 
a way that is worse than if you were to be burned 
at the stake, as I may be. You suffer day after 
day by living in a manner which you know you 
despise, and yet don’t make an etfort for any 
thing else. You say you can’t quit this way of 
living ; I say you can, and I will help you. Leave 
these savages this very night. We will go to- 
gether. We will find my partner, John Jerome— 
He is a Bruceville boy — ’ ’ 

* ‘ I know his dad. ’ ’ 

“So much the better, then, you should be 
willing to help for his sake— We will find John, 
I say, if he is still alive, and we will go at once 
to Connecticut. I promise to stick by you 
through thick and thin and I can get Capt. Bowen 
to help us, and you can square every charge there 
may be against you. Soon you will be comfort- 
ably housed, comfortably fed and respected. But 


278 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


man alive ! Even if you had to go to prison for 
a time, it would soon be over, and you have 
friends in Bruceville who will stand by you if — if 
you— do what’s right. And I’ll work for you 
and with you, not only because I ’ll owe my life to 
you, but—” 

The outlaw turned away. Ree’s tones had 
touched his heart. 

“Lord, boy,” he said, “it would be me as 
would owe my life to you, but it can’t be did. 

Time was when I Why, boy, I was brought 

up as well as any on ’em, but I run away before 
the war; an’— after I got into trouble I never 
went back again. An’ now I’ve made my bed and 
I ’ve got to lay in it. ’ ’ 

“You can do all that I say and more. And 
you have more than half of your life to live yet ! ’ ’ 

Big Buffalo and a Mingo came near but Ree 
did not see them. 

‘ ‘ Will ye shut up ? An ’ ye better warble yer 
death song if ye’ve got any spunk.” 

These were Big Pete’s words and there was 
anger and wicked cruelty in his tones. He strode 
away and Big Buffalo stepped up and took his 
place as guard over the prisoner. 

“ Fool I fool ! fool I No get away 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


270 


now!” grunted the Buffalo savagely, and vici- 
ously slapped Ree’s cheek. 

What should he do? The unhappy captive 
turned the question over and over in his mind. 
That Big Pete could have spoken in such a brutal 
way only because he saw Big Buffalo coming up, 
seemed possible, but his voice had in it a ring 
of deadly earnest. If he could but speak to him 
once more ! Ree prayed. He must escape that 
night, with the white man’s help, or without it. 
But how? 

He was securely bound and guarded. Not 
only was he tied hand and foot, the hands about 
his wrists being so tight that his hands were 
swollen almost to bursting, causing him great 
pain, but he was also tied to the tree. Dark— 
bitterly dark was the prospect, and one of less 
courage and resolution must have been absolute- 
ly without hope. 

Thinking again of Big Pete ’s proposal, Ree 
resolved positively that he certainly would not 
go to Connecticut and tell the false and ridicu- 
lous stories the fellow wished the good people of 
Bruceville to believe. Some other bargain must 
he made with the outlaw, or he must escape un- 
aided. And he made up his mind that come what 


280 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


might he would not hesitate to shed blood, if nec- 
essary, and that he would escape or die in the 
endeavor. 

The hot sun beat down upon the Indian camp 
and the Indians dozed drowsily, awaiting with 
the stolid patience with which the Red race is 
gifted, the coming of the morrow and its barbar- 
ous festivities. Scarcely a breath of air was 
stirring ; the atmosphere seemed stifling. Again 
and again Ree asked for water as the afternoon 
dragged on, but no heed was given him. He was 
sick and sore from rough usage, insufficient food 
and fatigue. And as his thirst became so great 
that a white, sticky saliva, which he could not re- 
move, formed in his mouth, he suffered intense- 
ly. Again came the feeling of despondency and 
the thought that death would be welcome. W th 
difficulty he shook it off. The time was too short 
—too precious, to be spent in repining or bemoan- 
ing his probable fate. 

At last sleep came to the poor boy’s relief 
and though savages came from time to time to 
look at, and gloat over their young victim, he did 
not waken. In his dreams he was with John once 
again in their cozy cabin. Again he was back in 
Connecticut, sitting silent and alone in the little 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


281 


churchyard. Still again he seemed to be talking 
to Mrs. Catesby and telling her he had found a 
buyer for the yearling colt. But with a start he 
passed from dreamland to the desnerate reality 
of his terrible position. 

The firing of guns was the noise which wak- 
ened Ree. Gathering his scattered senses, he 
knew that it was not relief which was coming to 
him, as he had at first hoped ; but only more In- 
dians arriving to see him burned. They had shot 
off their guns as they approached, as a sign of 
friendliness. Delawares observed the same cus- 
tom, the captive remembered. 

The wind had risen while Ree slept. He was 
glad to notice this, and to see that a thunder storm 
was brewing. The long day would end in rain 
and darkness. Already the branches and leaves 
of the trees were tossed and swayed by the ever 
increasing gale, and the greater the noise and 
blackness of the storm, the better his chance for 
getting away, should he be able to break or other- 
wise free himself of his bonds, Ree reflected. 

Big Buffalo, silent and ugly, still stood 
guard. Imploringly the prisoner again asked for 
water. The redskin did not move, and the boy 
did not repeat the request. Faster and faster the 


282 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


darkness was coming on, and soon came the rain, 
in torrents, beating down so furiously that the 
enclosure of poles aiforded little protection. But 
Ree was glad it did not, for, feeling a steady drip- 
ping on his shoulder, he turned his head and 
opening his parched lips caught the cooling drops 
in his mouth as they fell. When the stoim had 
abated somewhat. Big Pete ’s voice was suddenly 
heard. 

“Hev we got to watch the Paleface dog all 
night r’ 

The question was addressed to Big Butfalo. 

“Ugh,” with no other answer than this, and 
a snarl and a growl, the Indian turned away and 
the white man took his place a^ guard. 

For a long time Ree hesitated to speak, but 
at last as Big Pete remained silent, he said : 

“I have been waiting and hoping to see you 
again, I— ” 

“Drat you! Stop yer whinin’! I’ll knock 
yer head off!” loudly interrupted the outlaw, 
and such savage brutality was there in the man’s 
voice, that Ree abandoned hope of securing help 
from him. 

Again the boy busied himself with new plans 
for escape, and secretly tried to loosen the thongs 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


283 


about his wrists and ankles. He thought the 
strips of skins seemed looser, now that they were 
wet; at any rate they wea’e slippery and maybe 
they would stretch. He dared not, however, go 
too far with his endeavors at that time; for, 
though it was pitch dark, he could see that some 
of the Indians were still moving about the smold- 
ering camp-fires nearby. The fury of the storm 
was over but a drizzling rain was falling, and the 
constant drip of the water and the murmuring af 
the wind in the trees, made a most melancholy 
sound. 

A couple of hours passed. The Indians were 
asleep, but Big Pete, silently watchful, squatted 
on the ground, a blanket thrown over his shoul- 
ders, his rifle under his arm. After a time, he 
moved slightly, looked toward the campfires then 
all about him, and last of all toward Ree. He 
rose to his feet and leaned on his rifle, listening. 
All was quiet. With a stealthy step he bent one 
knee and craning his neck toward the prisoner, 
whispered. 

“Ye rec’lect what you said to me ’bout goin’ 
to Connecticut with mef” 

‘ ‘ Yes, ’ ’ was the answer, spoken almost defi- 
antly. 


284 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


‘ ‘ Will ye stick by everything ye said ? Cross 
yer heart an’ hope to die if ye don’t?” 

‘ ‘ I cross my heart and hope I may die if I do 
not.” 

“Then, boy, here’s where Pete Ellis an’ you 
make a start fer a land o’ civilized cookin’ an’ 
feather beds. An’ the Lord help us; it’s a des- 
perate job we’re in for.” 

A calm, deep feeling of joy came to Ree’s 
heart and all his strength and courage returned, 
as he realized that deliverance was at hand. But 
of a sudden there came to him the thought— 
could he trust Big Pete? Long ago he had 
thought sometimes that he might have been the 
mysterious prowler who had thrice attempted his 
life and killed old Jerry. Somehow this belief 
rushed upon his mind with great force at this 
critical time, and bluntly, though in a friendly 
tone, he said at once : 

‘ ‘ Pete Ellis, let us understand one another, 
from the start. I must tell you here and now, 
that if you are the man who followed John Jer- 
ome and me on our way west, and shot at us and 
at last killed our horse, I cannot and will not 
keep my promise to you.” 


I 




In another minute Big Pete had cut the captive’s bunds 



FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


285 


‘‘Boy, I don’t know what yer talkin’ about, 
so help me, I don’t.” 

As this conversation took place Ellis was on 
his hands and knees partially inside the prison- 
er’s narrow lodge. His amazement at the sudden 
question, as shown by his actions and tone, sat- 
isfied Bee that he spoke the truth. 

“I believe you, Pete,” the hoy whispered 
gently, and added, ‘ ‘ Forgive me, I ’ll tell you all 
about why I asked, when we are safe away. ” 

In another minute Big Pete had cut the cap- 
tives ’ bonds, but before allowing him to stir, rose 
to his feet and looked all about. Then he stooped 
low and reaching into the rude shelter took Bee ’s 
right hand and gently drew him forth. There 
was no mistaking the friendliness of his touch, 
nor of his words as he whispered : 

“It’s you an’ me for it together, boy. Ye 
thought I was pretty hard on ye, didn’t ye? 
Thought I was all put out by what ye said to me ! 
I had to do jist as I did, boy; these Mingoes are 
such suspicious devils! Now, ye ready? Don’t 
ye breathe ; f oiler close behind me till we get clear 
o’ the camp.” 

“Beady,” Bee whispered, cautiously but 
confidently, and moved slowly forward. 


286 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


Oh, what a relief it was to stand upon his 
feet again! To move his hands freely before 
him ! He did not mind the pain he felt as he crept 
cautiously along, after having been in a cramped 
position for so many hours. He did not now for 
a moment doubt that in a very little time he 
would be free. Closely he followed his leader as 
Big Pete picked his way carefully through the 
camp. They passed within a few feet of a bark- 
covered shelter and plainly heard the breathing 
of the Indians under it. One of them stirred 
restlessly; the Palefaces paused. The Indian 
turned over and slept again, and the man and 
boy crept cautiously on. Full well they knew 
that discovery would mean death to both. 

In a little while they had passed outside the 
camp, and then at a slightly faster pace, made 
their way toward the deeper shadows of the sur- 
rounding forest. 

“We’re gettin’ there,” Big Pete turned to 
whisper, but at the same instant there loomed up 
before them, not a yard away, but scarcely dis- 
cernible in the blackness of the night, the figure 
of an Indian of giant size. 


CHAPTER XXL 


Facing New Dangers. 

‘ ‘ The white brother walks late. ’ ’ 

It was the voice of the redskin which broke 
the silence, and he placed a detaining hand on 
Big Pete’s shoulder, as he spoke. 

A thrill of alarm and of failing hope ran 
through Ree’s nerves, and for an instant he was 
of a mind to make a sudden, bold dash into the 
deeper shadows of the woods. But in a moment 
he was himself again. 

“Chief High Horse is also walking in the 
night,” Big Pete made answer to the Indian, 
promptly and collectedly. 

‘ ‘ Old men do not sleep as young braves, ’ ’ the 
savage replied in excellent English. ‘ ‘ My Pale- 
face brother was left to guard a prisoner; now he 
walks beyond the camp-fire; and the captive— is 
with him.” 

Big Pete made a sudden movement as though 
to draw his knife and plunge the blade to the 
Indian’s heart, before the savage could give the 
287 


288 


PAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


alarm ; but tbe hand of the great chief seized his 
wrist and held it fast. 

At the same moment Ree leaped forward, 
ready to make a desperate fight rather than be 
retaken. 

“My tongue is not crooked, Chief High 
Horse,’’ growled the white man, “and I’ll not 
deny that this prisoner and I are about to escape 
—escape or die ! And I warn you, chief though 
you be, and an older man than myself, that your 
blood will stain the ground if you do not let us 
pass ! ’ ’ 

Big Pete spoke in a low tone but his voice 
was most terribly earnest. Even at such a time 
Ree found himself wondering how the rough fel- 
low could use such good language, when it was 
certainly not his ordinary speech. But Big Pete, 
like many other men, had learned to speak gram- 
matically when addressing Indians who were ac- 
customed to use good language themselves,— 
such Indians as this proud chieftain to whom he 
spoke now. 

‘ ‘ Is High Horse but a squaw ? Ugh ! Think 
not that Paleface or Redman could make a Mo- 
hawk tremble! The white brother speaks as a 
child. At the call of High Horse all the Mingo 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


289 


warriors will be astir, keen as the wolf on the 
blood-wet trail. Think not by such silly talk to 
move a chief of the bravest of the brave tribes of 
the Iroquois ! Ugh ! 

“Chief High Horse, the Mingoes have been 
my friends, and I am doing them no injury in 
leaving them. My skins, my blankets and all 
that is in my lodge, I leave for them; but their 
ways are not the ways of the white men. Their 
captive is from my own village. He is taking me 
to my people. I am taking him to his.’’ 

■ There was something very touching in Big 
Pete’s tone. Time was flying and at any mo- 
ment the Indian camp might discover the ab- 
sence of the prisoner and the guard. Something 
must be done, and it was Ree who did it ; for as 
by an act of Providence, suddenly he remembered 
when and where he had heard the Indian name, 
High Horse, before, and immediately he made it 
known. 

‘ ‘ Chief High Horse, ’ ’ said he, ‘ ‘ is the friend 
of my friend. As I left my home for the west, a 
brave soldier of the wars— Captain Wm. Bowen 
gave to me a knife and said the noble chieftain. 
High Horse, had given it to him. And he asked 

me, should I meet the famous Mohawk, to show 

19 


290 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


him the knife and tell him how I came by it, and 
to say that Captain Bowen will never forget his 
red brother. ’ ’ 

“Ugh!” 

The Indian made no other reply, but in this 
expressive savage ejaculation doubt of the truth 
of the words he heard, was plainly implied. 

‘ ‘ But the knife, I am very sorry to say, ’ ’ Ree 
went on, ‘ ‘ was lost in the side of a wolf which with 
others attacked me when the snow lay deep and 
frozen, and I was forced to find safety in a tree. ’ * 
Another exclamation of interest escaped the 
Indian, and Big Pete in his surprise gave a low 
whistle, quickly checking himself, fortunately in 
the midst of that dangerous proceeding. 

“I fastened the knife in a cleft stick and so 
defended myself, ’ ’ Ree went on. ‘ ‘ The knife was 
lost, as I have said, else would I claim the friend- 
ship and protection of Chief High Horse. We— 
my friend and I— have had no quarrel with the 
Mingoes— no quarrel with the Delawares, only 
Big Buffalo. It was he who led the attack upon 
our cabin, and we were obliged to fight. But I 
ask you Chief High Horse, in the name of your 
old friend who befriended you, to let us pass. 
Give us until the moon has set as a start; then 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


291 


sound the alarm. I ask only that, Chief— only 
that. ’ ’ 

As Ree spoke, he knew that Big Pete clutch- 
ed the handle of his scalping knife. Dark as it 
was, he could not be mistaken, and well he also 
knew that an unfavorable reply from the Indian 
would plunge them all at once into a deadly con- 
flict, with chances that they would have a race for 
their lives with the odds against them. And 
with intensity of eagerness and anxiety he waited 
the chief’s reply. After a pause of but a few 
seconds, though it seemed as many minutes, the 
Indian spoke. His only word was : 

“Come.” 

Instantly High Horse turned about and 
speedily but stealthily stole away farther into 
the woods. With equal noiselessness Ree and 
Big Pete followed, the latter murmuring in a low 
undertone his words of astonishment at the turn 
affairs had taken. Clearly he had expected the 
very opposite. 

A quarter of a mile from the camp in a 
shaded and very dark glade, the Indian stopped 
and turning about he seized Ree’s hand and 
shook it warmly. 

“Has the young brother food? He must 


292 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


have his rifle. I now give him the knife which 
was the gift of Captain Bowen. A Mingo hun- 
ter found it in the side of a great she wolf dead 
in the woods. It was the Great Spirit who sent 
it in that way to High Horse to show him how to 
repay the kindness of the brave white soldier who 
gave him life and food and powder. High Horse 
knows and loves the Great Spirit and under- 
stands, so he has done as he has done. The Mo- 
hawk does not ask mercy nor does he show 
mercy. ’ ^ 

High Horse was gone more quickly than he 
had spoken. But Ree now knew and understood, 
and blessed the day that the wolves had attacked 
him. He resolved to let the Indian know how 
grateful he felt, but as they waited. Big Pete 
cautioned the lad against expressing his thanks 
in words, saying that the savage would be dis- 
pleased. 

Then in whispers Ree told his new-found 
friend more of the marvelous manner in which 
the knife Capt. Bowen had given him, had been 
the means of their escape when they seemed com- 
pletely cut off ; and scarcely had Ellis ceased his 
words of wonderment, when High Horse stole 
softly up to them. 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


293 


‘‘High Horse goes with the young white 
brother,’' the Indian calmly announced, as he 
gave Ree the rifle which had been taken from 
him, also a blanket and a pouch containing 
pounded corn. How he had managed to secure 
these things was a mystery. 

“I must find my friend John Jerome if I 
can, I want to go to our cabin or where it was, at 
least,” Ree answered decisively, and it was 
quickly agreed that that course should be taken. 

At as rapid a pace as the uneven ground 
and the darkness of the forest would permit, 
therefore, the trio hurried onward. High Horse, 
who was more familiar with the vicinity than the 
white men, leading the way. Not a great dis- 
tance had they gone, when a distant war-whoop 
was heard. 

‘ ‘ Gone, ’ ’ said High Horse significantly, and 
Ree knew well enough that his escape had been 
discovered. He made no comment, but mentally 
resolved that he should not again be taken alive. 

“Me an’ you stick together whatever hap- 
pens, mind,” Big Pete whispered to the boy, and 
then in a louder tone to the chief he said : ‘ ‘ Chief 
High Horse, I would rather run than fight. The 
Mohawk knows that we must be careful.” 


294 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


The Mohawk truly did know how foolish it 
would be for the three of them to attempt to give 
battle to the pursuers who might, and might 
not, overtake them, and already he had changed 
his course so that they soon came to a little creek. 
This they waded for a long distance hoping to 
throw the Mingoes off the trail, should the latter 
succeed in following them, which it was unlikely 
they could do, at least not before daylight. 

Silently the little party pressed forward, all 
through the night, and paused but a little while 
to rest and eat and drink when daylight came. 
Soon afterward they reached a river which Eee 
rightly judged to be the Cuyahoga. 

They were in a very wild and broken coun- 
try. The rough massive ridges which sloped 
back from the river and the scrubby trees upon 
them, though beautiful in the spring verdure, 
made a gloomy impression; and, thinking of 
John and the slight probability that he would 
find his chum alive, Ree found that it required 
all his strength of will to keep his courage up. 
And he was so tired— so worn out by all that he 
had gone through, that his physical strength as 
well, came near deserting him. 

“Now if we only had a canoe!” exclaimed 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


295 


Big Pete, in an undertone, as they reached the 
water. 

Bee would have welcomed that easier means 
of traveling also, but there was no use wishing. 
Without a pause High Horse kept on the way, 
evidently anxious to put as many miles as pos- 
sible between themselves and their pursuers, 
though he had briefly stated that, unless they 
happened to meet roving Indians, who would 
betray them, they were safe from the Mingoes, 
who, the day before, had expected that at that 
hour they would be dancing about the torture 
fire. 

The little party had left the beaten trail far 
behind and now they had very hard traveling 
in climbing the ridges which often projected 
down nearly to the water and pushing through 
the swampy places which they frequently found 
in the valleys between the hills. 

Of a sudden, as they mounted to the top of 
one of these knolls. High Horse dropped to the 
ground, motioning to his companions to do like- 
wise. Whatever the danger was, the white men 
had failed to see it; but now as they peeped 
through the underbrushwhich screened them, they 
noticed a thin column of vapory smoke, scarcely 


296 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


discernible, except against the dark background 
of the trees, which, further on, rose to a consid- 
erable height. 

The smoke seemed to rise from a gorge about 
fifty rods ahead of them. Intently the Mohawk 
chief studied this sign of probable danger. At 
last he said : 

“One— two— may be three Indians, cooking 
meat ’ ’ 

“How can chief High Horse tell that?” Ree 
inquired, really enjoying the opportunity to rest, 
as he lay prone upon his stomach, staring ahead. 

‘ ‘ Little fire ; dry wood. Some dark spots in 
smoke show grease burning. Paleface would 
have more fire or not any, and maybe green wood 
that makes much smoke. More Indians than two- 
three would have more fire. Wait.” 

With this answer, the old chief went forward 
slowly and cautiously from bush to bush and 
from tree to tree, and with deep interest and anx- 
iety his white companions obeyed his command, 
“Wait,” while both took pains to see that their 
rifles were in readiness, should the weapons be 
needed. 

Nearly half an hour passed before High 
Horse was beheld returning. As he drew near, 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


297 


he motioned to Ree and Pete to go toward him 
and when Ihey approached, held up two fingers, 
speaking only the words : ‘ ‘ Friends of the Mo- 
hawk. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Who ? ’ ’ Ree felt impelled to ask, not entire- 
ly willing to trust all of the old chief’s friends. 

But for answer High Horse abruptly asked 
his companions to follow him, and led the way, 
now taking an easier course than before, near 
the river bank and in plain view of any one who 
might chance along the stream— rather a dan- 
gerous proceeding, Ree thought. 

A couple of minutes of rapid walking 
brought the three friends face to face with two 
Indians squatted beside a small fire in a shel- 
tered valley. Both were eating venison, and they 
produced a knife and a haunch of savory meat 
for the newcomers to help themselves, without 
ado, and without showing the least surprise or 
more than indifferent interest in their callers. 

High Horse had evidently explained to the 
two Indians, with whom he seemed to be well ac- 
quainted, how he happened to be in the company 
of the white men. They looked with some curi- 
osity at Ree as they saw his blackened face and 
body, knowing very well what the color signified. 
And with more than curiosity Ree looked at them, 


298 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


as the Mohawk made informal introductions. As 
he shook hands with one of them, he exclaimed : 

‘ ‘ Why, it is Black Eagle ! ’ ^ 

“Black Eagle,” answered the Indian in a 
tone of assent. 

The surprise of Big Pete and High Horse 
that Bee should know this strange redman was 
apparent in their faces, but it was also apparent 
that Black Eagle did not recognize him. 

“How is your son— North Wind— Black 
Eagle? Did he recover? Do you not remember 
me? You have not forgotten the night when some 
one shot North Wind as we were camped at the 
roadside, far to the east?” 

With a little exclamation which, though it 
was not a complete word in itself, seemed to ex- 
press more than many words could have done. 
Black Eagle seized Bee’s hand. Even through 
the black paint he now recognized the youth who 
had befriended him and his son. 

“Better wash up, boy. No wonder he didn’t 
know ye,” put in Big Pete at this juncture, and 
High Horse seeming to believe the suggestion a 
wise one, picked up a piece of raw deer fat and 
quite unceremoniously led Bee to the river where 
he showed him how to use the grease as an aid in 
removing the black from his skin. 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


299 


E,ee had much to think of as he struggled 
through his ablutions. Vividly he recalled the 
night in camp on the eastern border when the 
first of all those mysterious shots was fired— di- 
rected at himself it seemed, though the bullet had 
struck the young Indian, North wind. He remem- 
bered the determination of Black Eagle to take 
the scalp of the man who fired the shot, and to 
take many scalps if Northwind died; and he 
hurried through with his washing to ask the In- 
dian again whether the young man had lived or 
died. 

“There,’’ said the savage, pointing toward 
the blue sky. It was his only answer to the ques- 
tion, but Bee understood— and respected the In- 
dian for his belief that his son’s soul was with 
the Great Spirit. But from Black Eagle’s man- 
ner he saw that the subject had better be avoid- 
ed, so he inquired what his “red brother” was 
doing so far west. 

“Wah Wah mighty hunter,” was the an- 
swer, meaning that he had brought the Indian 
who was with him into the wilderness in search 
of game. 

Ree doubted the truth of this, as this was not 
the usual hunting season, but he said nothing. 
Instead, he asked a question which he dreaded to 


300 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


put lest he should hear the worst he feared. It 
was, whether Black Eagle had seen anything of 
John Jerome. But the Indian answered that he 
had not; that he and Wah Wah had arrived in 
the vicinity only the second day before. 

The subject of finding John, having thus 
been introduced. High Horse asked the two other 
Indians if they wished to bear him company in 
helping the Palefaces to find their brother. 

“There are presents for all who will help,’’ 
Bee suggested, anxious to enlist the aid of the 
Indians, for he secretly feared that there would 
be more fighting soon ; and again, the more help, 
the sooner John— at least some trace of him— 
might be found. 

And there was still another and no less im- 
portant reason for his desiring Black Eagle and 
Wah Wah to join their party. The latter was a 
Deleware and his natural sjunpathies would be 
with Big Buffalo. If so, how easily he could be- 
tray them all to the cruel Mingo allies the Buf- 
falo had secured ! And the enemy would surely 
be glad to reward such service. 

Ree thought most gravely of these things as 
the Indians hesitated to speak. Black Eagle look- 
ing inquiringly at his companion, and then his 
hopes fell. Wah Wah sullenly shook his head. 


I 


CHAPTER XXIL 
The Limit of Endurance. 

When John Jerome made his perilous leap 
into the river from the high bluff behind the 
cabin, he scarcely knew what he was doing. The 
supreme danger in which he so unexpectedly 
found himself, forced him to make that move, and 
down he went like a flash. 

No sooner had he sunk in the turbid stream, 
however, than he began making his way against 
the current. The weight of his rifle, still grasped 
in his right hand, helped him to keep the natural 
buoyancy of his body from carrying him to the 
surface, and on the river bottom he crawled slow- 
ly up stream. 

With heroic determination he held his 
breath, and just as he felt that he must rise for 
air or burst every bloodvessel in his head, his 
hands touched the submerged boughs of a tree- 
top which had fallen into the water. Quickly he 
crept among the branches, and allowed his nose 
and distended lips to rise above the rippling ed- 
301 


302 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


dies of the surface, the water not being so deep 
but that his feet touched bottom as he did this. 

A long time John remained in this position, 
mentally denouncing himself for having left Ree 
to fight the battle alone. Time and again he as- 
sured himself that he would surely have been 
killed had he not jumped, but still he felt him- 
self a coward. 

At last, making sure that all was quiet near 
him, the unhappy boy raised his eyes above the 
water. On the opposite bank were three Indians, 
but they were gazing down stream and did not 
see him. They had their guns in readiness, how- 
ever, and immediately J ohn sank low again, pain- 
fully surprised to see how short a distance he 
had gone, for it seemed to him that he must have 
traveled a quarter of a mile upon the river bed. 

He resolved to remain just where he was 
until the coast was clear, though he believed he 
could have reached shore unobserved. The latter 
course, however, would have resulted in his leav- 
ing wet tracks upon the river bank, which might 
easily be discovered. His decision was a wise 
one; for the Indians searched up and down the 
stream with great care, expecting to find just 
such a trail. 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


303 


At last came darkness. A heart-sick boy, 
sorely distressed in mind and body, silently swam 
the river and crept toward the cabin, which, 
twenty-four hours before, had been his home. 

How changed it was now ! From a clump of 
willows he could see the little log house and its 
smokeless chimney ; but no sign of life was there 
—no sign of his dearest friend. What had they 
done with him? He dreaded to go up the hillside 
lest he should find Ree’s body, and prudence told 
him not to show himself for fear the cabin was 
being watched, in hope of his return. Still he 
went quite near and listened so carefully that he 
was satisfied Ree was not there ; then wearily he 
returned to the water and swam to the western 
shore. 

John’s plans were soon formed. By a cir- 
cuitous route he would go to the village of the 
Delawares. He would manage to communicate 
with Gentle Maiden and ask her assistance. She 
had influence with all the Indians, and might 
have especial influence over Big Buffalo. Surely 
she would help him— help him rescue Ree, if his 
friend were still alive— help him punish the mur- 
derers, if he were dead. 

Hope came to the cold, hungry, weary boy 


304 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER, 


as he planned— hope that he might yet save the 
life which he valued more than his own. 

Eealizing that every minute was of precious 
value, John hurried on and on. The darkness 
and his trackless way over rough ground, and 
around trees and underbrush and swampy places, 
made his progress painfully slow. The howling 
of wild animals added to his utter misery and 
fears. 

All night the hoy traveled, frequently going 
far from the direction he wished to pursue, but 
at dawn he found himself at the edge of a wet, 
swampy plain which he knew was near the lake. 
It afforded him such a hiding place he wished 
to make use of for a time, and he waded in among 
the tall dead rushes which thickly covered the 
whole tract. 

Taking care to leave no trace of his entrance 
to the hog, John felt safe when twenty rods with- 
in its borders, and sitting on a tussock, his feet 
knee-deep in the mire, he spread his buckskin 
shirt— a gaiment of his own making— upon the 
weeds which he crushed down before him, to 
scatter upon it the soaking contents of his powder 
horn. He hoped to be enabled to again make use 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


305 


of Ms rifle, if the powder would but dry thor- 
oughly. 

The patience it required to sit idly by, op- 
pressed by the thought that he might be losing 
valuable time, and the victim of countless gnats, 
was, to quick, nervous John, a terrible hardship ; 
but he loaded his rifle at last, confident that the 
powder would do its part. As he rose to his feet, 
however, he found himself scarcely able to pull 
Mmself out of the bog. A feeling of dizziness 
beyond description, and of weakness came over 
Mm, as he dragged his way out of the swampy 
place as best he could, and toward the lake. 

Poor boy! He was ill in body and spirit, 
and completely fagged out. In his weakened and 
exposed condition the poisonous vapors of the 
swamp had been absorbed by his system as a 
sponge takes up water. He had been cold while 
sitting still, now he was burning with fever and 
his head ached blindingly. 

John could not understand it. He had been 
sick scarcely a day in his life. He did not know 
how ill he was. He staggered down to the lake 
to get a drink, and was conscious of seeing two 
young Indians in a canoe not far away. He was 
too ill to determine whether they were likely to 
20 


306 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


be friendly or hostile, so drew back under cover 
of some bushes that they should not see him. He 
tried to remember the plan he had formed for 
communicating with Gentle Maiden, by going 
directly to the village and inquiring for Capt. 
Pipe, though he knew the chief was not there. 
He could think of nothing clearly. 

‘ ‘ Oh, I could just lie down and die, if I knew 
Ree was safe,” he whispered to the motionless 
leaves and the hot oppressive air. 

And then a chill came over him and he crept 
into the sunshine. There he lay scarcely con- 
scious until the fever returned, when he regained 
his senses sufficiently to crawl toward the water 
again. A cooling draught revived him some- 
what, and he rose, intending to walk around the 
lake to the Delaware town. He did take a few tot- 
tering steps, and then— fell prostrate— and knew 
no more. 

Slipping softly through the dense woods as 
if fearing to be heard or seen, a shaggy bearded, 
roughly dressed man, apparently a hunter, ap- 
proached the lake on the opposite side of which 
was the town of the Delawares. It was late in 
the afternoon. A storm was coming on, and the 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


307 


wind lashed the water’s surface into fierce little 
waves. 

The hunter stopped behind some bushes 
close to the shore and peered anxiously through 
them. 

“It’s a goin’ to be a pesky dark night, hut it 
will suit me all right, ’ ’ he said to himself, below 
his breath. “Now what I want to do is lay low 
till its clean dark, an’ then get around to ’tother 
side an’ watch a chance for jest one good shot— I 
don’t want no more. But I’ll be blamed! What 
is that there?” 

The exclamation with which the man thus 
interrupted his own reflections, was caused by his 
discovering that a few yards to his right, among 
some tall grass, lay the body of a human being. 
The figure was that of a man and lay face down- 
ward. The dress showed that the person was not 
an Indian. 

“Kin it be more red deviltry?” the hunter 
apprehensively asked himself, and quickly but 
cautiously approached the prostrate form. Ten- 
derly he turned the body over. 

“Land o’ love, it’s the kitten!— it’s John!” 

John Jerome it was, and the hunter’s prac- 
ticed eye quickly saw that he was not dead. 


308 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


though unconscious. He brought water in his 
battered fur cap, and sprinkled on the boy’s face 
and forehead. 

*‘I ain’t none too glad to see ye youngster, 
but it does ’pear that I got along here in the nick 
o ’ time. I ’m glad on it, but ye ’ll be upsettin ’ my 
plans, sure ! ” 

The lad had not yet regained his senses, but 
soon his eyes opened. For a little while he stared 
vacantly, then his face lighted up with the full 
return of consciousness. 

‘ ‘ Tom Fish I ” 

‘‘Oh, ho, my kitten! Ain’t so playful as ye 
was, be ye % Easy now ! Don ’t excite yourself I ’ ’ 

“Oh, Tom, where’s Ree? Where am IT’ 

“Now be ca’m kitten.” The rough man’s 
voice was soft and kind. ‘ ‘ Maybe ye had a sun- 
stroke?” he suggested. “I found ye lyin’ here 
near the lake.” 

In a moment John was trying to stagger fo 
his feet. 

‘ ‘ Oh Tom, the Indians have got Ree ! You ’ll 
help me! It was Big Buffalo, Tom,— and Min- 
goes!” 

“Indians got Ree?” 

The information threw Thomas Fish into a 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


309 


state of high excitement immediately, and as 
John told him briefly what had happened, he 
could scarcely contain his wrath. 

“An’ it was the murderin’ Buffalo I” he 
ejaculated. “Oh, but I’m a goin’ to give him a 
dose! Why, I’ve been trampin’ day an’ night 
jest to give him a pill that’ll put him to sleep! 
Course I’ll help ye, kitten mine ! I come back to 
these parts a purpose to kill that varmint ! Ye 
rec’lect the scalp he had, John? I to’ ye I 
knew whose it was, ye mind? Waal, I been to 
Detroit an’ clean to Quebec lookin’ fer Art 
Bridges, an’ I’ve found out sure sartin that he 
come into these parts las’ fall. An’ that settles 
it! That thar scalp was his’n, an’ Big Buffalo 
will be a gone goslin the minute I clap my bl’ 
peepers on him ! 

‘ ‘ But he ain ’t here, ain ’t he ? Why, I was 
’lowin ’ to hang around their town till I could get 
a crack at him. Thought maybe I could pick him 
off tonight. That’s why I didn’t go near you 
kittens’ cabin— didn’t want ye to know I was 
anywhere near these parts ; didn’t want the Dela- 
wares to know it. Because if nobody knew, why 
nobody could tell who did it, when they picked 
that Buffalo critter up deader ’n a door nail; 


310 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


they ’d never gness who sent him to Purgatory, ye 
see! I didn’t want to get you kittens into no 
trouble. But course I ’ll help ye ! Rayther guess 
I will!” 

‘ ‘ Poor old Tom, you have your own troubles, 
I know, and I remember how mean it was of me 
to behave as I did when you told us you knew 
whose scalp that was that Big Buffalo had. I am 
ever so much obliged, Tom, and we’d better be 
starting, hadn ’t we T ’ 

John rose from the seat they had taken on 
an old log, as he spoke. 

‘ ‘ It ’s going to rain. I felt a drop on my face 
just now,” he said, and started forward; but he 
staggered and would have fallen had not Tom 
Fish caught him. 

“ You an’ me will camp the first handy place 
we come to, kitten,” the old hunter said, kindly. 
“You ain’t able to move a step, an’ hadn’t ought 
to, by rights. No ye won ’t do no sech thing ! ” he 
continued, as John protested that he could travel 
all night. “You’re clean played out, an’ sick to 
boot, an’ ye’ve got to rest till to-morrow, or may 
be next day— got to get yerself fixed up ’fore ye ’ll 
be wuth shucks a findin ’ yer pardner. ’ ’ 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


311 


Laboriously the man and the boy— boy in 
years but a man in every other way— plodded 
on. Before it was- completely dark they came to 
a semi-circular depression in a hillside, partially 
hedged in by a fallen tree and underbrush. 

There Tom called a halt and, making a bed 
of twigs and leaves for John, compelled him to 
lie down, covering him with his own blanket, for 
ther lad was again suffering from chills. He kin- 
dled a tiny fire close beside the fallen tree, that 
its light might not draw the attention of Indians, 
and in a small, handleless frying pan that he 
produced from the kit which, soldier-fashion, he 
almost always carried over his shoulder, he 
brewed a hot drink for his companion from some 
leaves that he gathered. Having taken this, J ohn 
felt more comfortable, and then, as it was raining 
hard, Tom erected over him a shelter of leafy 
branches supported by low, forked sticks. 

There was just room enough for Tom, also, 
to lie under the protection of the little bower, and 
the strangely mated companions ate their supper 
as they lay side by side in the darkness of the 
drenched forest. 

As they partook of the dried meat which the 
hunter’s pouch afforded, Tom asked many ques- 


312 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


tions concerning the attack on the cabin and 
John’s escape. He conld not restrain his words 
of astonishment as he learned the particulars of 
the fight, and expressed the greatest wonder that 
both boys had not been killed outright. 

Though he had eaten nothing but beech 
leaves for thirty-six hours, John was able to 
swallow but little of the coarse food Tom had; 
but he fell asleep after a time, and his trusty 
friend, resting “with one eye open,” watched 
over him the whole night through, and so tender- 
ly nursed him with draughts of water and more 
of the medicine he had brewed, that when the 
sunlight came at last, sending its cheering beams 
aslant through the dense foliage of the woods, 
the boy arose feeling much better. He was hun- 
gry, too,— a first-rate sign that he was recovering 
from his fever. 

Tom Fish declared, however, that their camp 
was in so favorable a place for hiding that they 
would better rest there all of that day. John’s 
protests were unavailing for a time, but as he 
continued to gain strength, largely through his 
own determination, the hunter at last consented 
to push on slowly, hoping that they might reach 
the cabin by nightfall and secure, if the Indians 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


313 


had not wrecked or stolen everything, both better 
food and medicine than were procurable under 
their present circumstances. 

Slow indeed, was their progress, John being 
much weaker than he realized, and often obliged 
to pause for rest. Not until nearly sun-down did 
they draw near the edge of the clearing in which 
the cabin stood. 

Cautiously they approached and looked 
searchingly through the bushes at the lonely lit- 
tle house on the hill,— so cheerless and forsaken 
in its appearance now, that, as the events of the 
past two days and the great change that had 
taken place, rushed with terrible force through 
John’s thoughts, tears came to his eyes and he 
could scarcely stand. 

Oh, where was Ree ? In the boy ’s innermost 
heart had been a faint hope that when he return- 
ed to the cabin he would find his chum there, safe 
and sound. But all was gloomy and deserted 
about their old home. No one had been near, it 
was plain, since the battle ; and all was so quiet 
that even the silence, broken only by the splash 
of the river nearby, added to the despair of the 
scene presented. 

“Oh, it’s too bad, kitten; too bad,” whis- 


314 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


pered Tom Fish, deeply touched by John’s grief, 
“but I guess we’ll have to go ahead.” 

Cautiously going forward, they were just 
emerging from the woods when the hunter’s 
quick ear detected the sound of stealthy foot- 
steps. He dropped quickly and softly on his knee, 
and instantly J ohn followed his example. 


CHAPTER XXIIL 


Mysteries Cleared Away. 

“Do you mean that you will not go with 
us?” Ree Kingdom' anxiously inquired as Wah 
Wah impatiently added “No! no!” and again 
shook his head to the proposition which Ree had 
repeated, that he would reward all who helped 
him find John Jerome. 

“No! No!” The Indian said a second time, 
“Wah Wah go; Wah Wah help.” 

“Wah Wah says he wants no presents; is it 
not so?” put in Chief High Horse. 

“Wah Wah goes with Black Eagle, friend 
of the young Long Knife, ’ ' Black Eagle himself 
announced, making plain what his Indian com- 
panion had been unable to express, that he would 
not go for the sake of the reward. 

So were Ree’s fears dispelled, for he knew 
he could only rely on the redman whose friend- 
ship he had won by his attention to poor North 
Wind. How long ago the night of that mysteri- 
ous shot from the darkness seemed ! 


315 


316 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


And Ree’s confidence returned to him as he 
learned that all present were his friends. As 
by common consent, too, being the most directly 
interested in the work before them, he became the 
acknowledged leader of the party, almost at once. 

“Let us lose no time, my brothers,” he urg- 
ed, and immediately the fire was extinguished, 
lest it should guide the Mingoes to their trail, 
and the journey toward the cabin of the young 
pioneers was begun. 

Big Pete was delighted to have Eee in com- 
mand of the party, being still much in fear for 
their safety, for well he knew that, should they 
fall into the Mingoes’ hands, there would be lit- 
tle hope of escape. Now that Ree had proved 
himself not without friends, too, Pete was more 
than pleased as he realized that the youth— boy 
though he was— would be able to make good 
every promise made to him ; and well content, he 
brought up the rear, often glancing back along 
their trail to guard against surprise, while Ree 
and High Horse led the way. No sound of pur- 
suers had been heard for hours. It seemed that 
Big Buffalo and his allies were left far behind. 

The sun was disappearing from view below 
the ocean of foliage which bounded the western 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


317 


horizon, but long, yellow beams of light still fell 
here and there, when the white men and their 
dusky friends crept cautiously forward and 
looked across the clearing to the deserted cabin. 
How ghost-like the little log house appeared, 
high in the open before them, bleakly outlined 
against the sky, and no sign of life in view ! The 
door was open as it had been left, but no fire- 
light shone from within, no ray of hope appeared 
to break the gloom. It was a sad, sad home-com- 
ing for Return Kingdom. 

“We would better go all around the edge of 
the clearing before going to the cabin, ’ ’ Ree sug- 
gested ; ‘ ‘ some of those fellows may have reached 
this spot ahead of us, and we must give them no 
chance to fire from under cover. 

High Horse signified his assent by leading 
the way. Ree followed, and in this order the 
party traversed half the distance around the 
clearing. Suddenly the chief’s hand was raised 
in silent command to halt. 

“What is it? ” Ree whispered, his rifle quick- 
ly in readiness. 

For answer High Horse pointed across a 
corner of the clearing, and, as the boy gazed in- 
tently in the direction indicated, he saw a beard- 


318 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


ed face peep slowly out from behind some brush. 
High Horse saw it too, and both ducked down. 

Again Bee looked and once again the beard- 
ed face appeared. 

“Tom Fish 

Forgetting all precaution as he recognized 
his old friend and shouted his name, Bee sprang 
forward at a run; and the next minute he 
was hugging John Jerome with one arm and with 
the other shaking hands with the old hunter. 

More leisurely High Horse and the others 
of Bee’s party followed him, and looked on ap- 
provingly at the greetings of the reunited 
friends, wliose embraces and hand-shakings it 
seemed to them, no doubt, would never be over. 
Nevertheless these were concluded at last, and 
then came joyful introductions. 

John’s surprise was very great indeed, as he 
recognized Big Pete and Black Eagle, and learn- 
ed that Chief High Horse was the friend of their 
own good friend, Capt. Bowen. Neither would he 
be still with his questions and exclamations until 
he learned in a general way all about Bee’s cap- 
ture and escape, of which his friend could scarce- 
ly tell him for his own anxiety to learn of John’s 
escape, and the most timely return of Tom Fish. 


TAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


319 


No medicine could have put John Jerome on 
his feet so quickly as did the happy turn affairs 
had taken; and now remembering that he was 
very hungiy, he proposed that they lose no time 
in preparing “a regular thanksgiving dinner.” 

The whole party soon gathered at the cabin. 
Its interior had been turned topsy-turvy, but 
there was dried meat and still a little meal which 
had not been disturbed, and Tom Fish lent a 
hand toward preparing a feast. He was not, 
however, in a cheerful mood, and memory of poor 
Arthur Bridges seemed to weigh heavier upon 
his thoughts after his having seen the joyful re- 
union of Bee and John. Yet he did not complain 
and with his old-time ability made a rich, deli- 
cious soup from dried venison ; and being himself 
hungry, as usual, he urged Ree, who prepared a 
johnny cake to spread the dough out thin upon 
the board which served as a pan, for baking the 
cake before the fire, that it might be ready the 
sooner. For Tom was really a first-class cook 
and was always given command in that depart- 
ment. 

An unearthly yell broke upon their ears just 
as the old woodsman had issued this order, and 
seizing his rifle, Ree leaped toward the door, 


320 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


where, just outside, John, Big Pete Ellis and the 
Indians had been sitting. He found Black Eagle 
rolling upon the ground in greatest fear or agony, 
and the others gathered around him, excepting 
John, who stood gazing at a white man standing 
in the half-twilight near the foot of the hill, ap- 
parently doubting whether to approach or go 
back. It was Black Eagle who had yelled, and 
now as he looked toward the stranger, he scream- 
ed again. 

“What on earth ” Ree was exclaiming, 

when John excitedly, but in a low voice interrupt- 
ed him. 

“It is the fellow who tried to rob us at the 
Eagle tavern, ’ ’ said he. ‘ ‘ The dirty cut-throat ! 
Shall I tell him to go his way, or ’ ’ 

The question was not finished. 

“Art Bridges— Art Bridges— you oP son- 
of-gun, you!” 

Tom Pish who had slowly followed Ree out, 
went dashing down the slope yelling these words 
hilariously. 

I^or a minute or two the boy pioneers were 
nearly as excited as Black Eagle; though why 
he should have behaved as he did, was quite mys- 
terious. The trembling Indian was soon quieted. 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


321 


however, as he saw Tom with his arms around his 
old friend who had returned, it seemed, from the 
dead ; but he looked at the stranger with suspi- 
cion and bewilderment plainly written on his 
face. 

Ree and John could scarcely believe their 
eyes, and felt certain that Tom had made a mis- 
take or had suddenly gone crazy. High Horse 
and Big Pete looked on with curiosity and inter- 
est. 

“Ugh! That’s him,” grunted Wah Wah, 
adding to the mystery. 

“No, no!” angrily ejaculated Black Eagle, 
and drew from a big pouch at his belt, the skull 
of a man. ‘ ‘ No, no, ’ ’ he cried again, and held the 
skull aloft for all to see. 

What could it mean ? 

In the meantime Tom Fish was repeatedly 
shaking hands with the man he had called ‘ ‘ Art 
Bridges,” as they slowly walked toward the 
cabin. 

“There’s some mistake,” John whispered, 
as he saw the stranger more clearly. “But if it 
should not be a mistake, I can’t treat that robbing 
scoundrel from the Eagle Tavern with any 

decency, even for Tom’s sake.” 

21 


322 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


“John,” Ree answered, a happy thought 
coming to him, ‘ ‘ do you remember that Tom said 
this Arthur Bridges had a good-for-nothing 
cousin named Ichabod Nesbit, who looked just 
like him 1 I tell you that Eagle Tavern blackleg 
must have been he ! Tom surely would not make 
a mistake in a case of this kind !” 

“ I see it— I see it all now ! ’ ’ John exclaimed. 
“The man who tried to rob us was Ichabod Nes- 
bit!” 

“White men and red brothers, this is my 
old pardner. Art Bridges, a true friend and a rip- 
snortin’ warrior,” cried Tom Pish gleefully, as 
he and the stranger came nearer. 

“You are heartily welcome, Mr. Bridges, 
and I am glad to make your acquaintance, sir,” 
spoke Ree Kingdom, stepping up to shake hands 
with the newcomer, who then shook hands with 
all present. 

Black Eagle eyed Bridges as though he were 
a ghost, and at last went up to him, pulled off the 
white man’s hat, and felt of and scrutinized the 
crown of his head. 

‘ ‘ Dead, dead, ’ ’ the Indian muttered. ‘ ‘ You 
he not dead.” 

“I rayther suspect not,” drawled Arthur 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


323 


Bridges with a smile; “but I say, friend, do you 
know some one who looks like me, that has gone 
to the happy hunting grounds?” 

Black Eagle nodded, and again drew forth 
from his pouch the gruesome skull and held it 
toward the speaker. 

“Just as much obliged, but I am not hank- 
erin’ to handle it,” said Bridges with a grim 
smile. “I’m just as well satisfied that it is not 
mine,” he went on. “Where did you get it, 
friend ? ’ ’ 

Ree and John listened eagerly for the an- 
swer to the question, while Big Pete, Tom Fish, 
High Horse and Wah Wah stood by, no less in- 
terested. The Indian shot about him a glance of 
triumph and savage satisfaction. 

Turning to Ree, he said : 

“Young white brother knows how in the 
dark a bullet flew and North Wind died? Yes, in 
one, two days North Wind died, and Black Eagle 
put him in the ground. Then did Black Eagle 
go find trail of man who shot from the dark, and 
followed— followed long time many, many days. 
Always, too, did the trail come after young Pale- 
face brothers— him and him—” turning to High 
Horse, and pointing at Ree and John. “But 


324 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


Black Eagle never mind nobody only man-that- 
shoots-from-the-dark. 

‘‘Sometimes he follows trail only as dogs 
follow wild foxes, then snow comes and trail is 
like wide path. Then Black Eagle go much fast. 
Snow goes Vay, Black Eagle goes heap slow. 
Many days pass ; farther and farther trail keeps 
on, following young Palefaces all time,— and clear 
up to them one time, and bad man shoots and 
runs. C!omes another day after while and Black 
Eagle hears same gun again and runs much fast 
and sees killer of North Wind running away. 
Black Eagle raises gun to shoot bad Paleface 
dead. Oh heap bad luck ! Gun not go, and man- 
that-shoots-from-the-dark runs much fast. So 
Black Eagle njns after him to kill him dead, and 
killer of North Wind wishes heap much to hide. 

“No chance, no time. Far— far— race was 
run, and then was a fight and Black Eagle kills 
Paleface wolf dead with his tomahawk. Dead, 
dead, dead ! And took his scalp ! Then, with his 
foot, so, rolled man-that-shoots-from-the-dark 
down hill like a log, and put stones on him, and 
Great Spirit never find him there. 

“Same day Black Eagle meets the Delaware 
Big Buffalo and to him gives scalp of killer of 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


325 


North Wind because Black Eagle goes again to 
land of many Palefaces and may not carry scalp 
there. So does Black Eagle go home where 
North Wind lies and after two, four moons comes 
Wah Wah and says man-that-shoots-from-the- 
dark be not dead, but in Ohio country—” 

“Him,” put in Wah Wah, pointing to 
Bridges. 

“Like him, yes,” Black Eagle continued. 
“Like him heap much, so Black Eagle thought 
was him to-day. When Wah Wah says killer of 
North Wind is in Ohio country. Black Eagle says 
‘No.’ So Black Eagle and Wah Wah come far 
away here for Wah Wah to see bones of Paleface 
killed by Black Eagle under the stones where the 
Great Spirit not find them. And bones be there 
as Black Eagle told Wah Wah ; dead, dead ! This 
is not killer of North Wind,” the Indian conclud- 
ed, pointing at Bridges ; and with evident satis- 
faction he once more drew the skull of his victim 
from his pouch, and with a wicked leer displayed 
it 

“That’s probably that cousin of mine, 
Tom,” said Arthur Bridges quietly— “Ichabod 
Nesbit, you know.” 

“An’ he got jes what he deserved!” Tom 


326 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


Fish made answer. “I’ve told you ’bout some of 
the tricks he was up to, but I ain’t told you how 
he tried to rob my young kitten friends here, an ’ 
how he followed ’em all the way over the moun- 
tains and clean this side o’ Pittsburg! I see it 
all now, like a book ! Pee, Black Eagle ’s got the 
skull of the fellow as shot Old Jerry— that was 
the horse the boys had.” (This to Arthur 
Bridges). 

“Yes, yes. Black Eagle comes just when he 
shot horse,” put in the Indian, interestedly. 

“That’s jest what ye did. Redskin,” Tom 
answered. “Ye see, ’ ’ he continued, ‘ ‘ Nesbit must 
a’ thought our kittens here had a lot o’ money, 
an’ followed ’em to rob ’em, an’ shot North Wind 
by mistake. But that wa’n’t all he was up to, by 
Jinks! Know that! He was cornin’ into this 
kentry, anyhow, an’ he was lookin’ fer ye. Art! 
Yes, he was, an’ he intended to kill ye! It was 
knowed that ye was in these parts; that’s why 
I was so sure that the scalp I seen Big Buffalo 
have, as I was tellin’ ye, was yourn. Now we 
know what happened. It was Black Eagle who 
killed Nesbit and gave the scalp to Big Buffalo.” 

‘ ‘ I had been about here and was at Marietta 
and Pittsburg during the winter. That’s where 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


327 


our red friend Wah Wah saw me, and told Black 
Eagle about it, mistaking me for Ichabod Nes- 
bit, ’ ’ said Bridges. 

“Ugh!” murmured the Indian referred to, 
in assent. 

“Come men, let’s have supper,” Ree ex- 
claimed at this juncture, thinking that the con- 
versation might not be pleasant to Arthur 
Bridges, and the subject was dropped for the 
time. 

John followed Ree into the cabin, as he went 
to bring out the soup and johnny cake that all 
might eat outside where it was cool and pleasant, 
“What do you think of it?” he whispered. 

‘ ‘ Why, what we have learned in the last fif- 
teen minutes .explains away our mysteries, 
doesn ’t it ? Is that what you mean ? ’ ’ 

“Of course. And to think of that Ichabod 
Nesbit following us clear from the Eagle Tav- 
ern!” 

‘ ‘ Oh, but he was after Arthur Bridges, too, 
and only— shot at us now and then as a pastime, 
I guess.” 

Ree smiled just a little gravely as he reflect- 
ed on their narrow escapes. 


328 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


“I’m glad Black Eagle killed him,” John 
replied with warmth. 

“No, it is wrong to feel that way,” Ree was 
returning, when Tom Fish came in, dancing a 
jig. John asked him how Arthur Bridges had 
happened to pass that way. 

“He kin tell ye better as me, kitten,” was 
the answer, and Tom in high spirits continued 
his jig. 

‘ ‘ I won ’t care for more than a hunk of your 
johnny cake. I had dinner ’fore I quit the 
Frenchers, ’ ’ said Bridges, as both white men and 
Indians gathered about the soup kettle. “I 
didn’t tell you,” he went on, addressing his 
words to Ree, “that I have been pilot for more 
French land sharks that passed by here yester- 
day. They came up the Ohio and are steering 
for Lake Erie. They have a plan to gobble all 
the lands around here if the government will sell 
it, and, to be honest with you, they intend to put 
you chaps off your place if they can buy the land. 
They thought I didn’t understand their jargon as 
they talked about it, but I did, and having no 
baggage but my old gun, I just quit ’em.” 

“Mean to put us off ?” demanded John Jer- 
ome, indignantly. 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


329 


“I’m afraid they could do it if they suc- 
ceeded in buying the land from the State, ’ ’ said 
Ree more quietly. “ It is too bad, there is an al- 
most perfect site for a town where the Portage 
trail and the river meet. ’ ’ 

“Buy it yourself/’ put in Pete Ellis. 

‘ ‘ Why not 1 ’ ’ asked Art Bridges. ‘ ‘ But you 
will have to hurry. The Frenchers are already 
on their way to Connecticut. 

“We will race them!” John exclaimed. 

“We will do our best,” said Ree simply, but 
seriously. “We must save our home. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ I am going to Connecticut myself and Tom 
Fish goes with me. We can travel together,” 
suggested Bridges, “and if we can do you any 
good—” 

“Ellis is going with John and me,” Ree lost 
no time in saying, ‘ ‘ and as we will need to travel 
fast, to beat the Frenchmen, who will no doubt 
go in their canoes, by water, as far as they can, 
and will make fast time in that way, it may not 
be convenient for you to travel with us. ’ ’ 

“Can’t get over the ground ’twixt here and 
the old home none too quick for Art an ’ me, ’ ’ put 
in Tom Fish. 

“Yes, the Frenchers have canoes and are 


330 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


traveling in them,” said Bridges, “but as Tom- 
my Fish says, we, too, are anxious to reach the 
east as soon as possible. We can help each other 
on the way and make faster time, if we are all 
together. 

“We shall travel together, then,” was Bee’s 
reply, “and thank you for the offer.” 

“What is to become of our furs, though?” 
asked John. ‘ ‘ The Mingoes took only a few. We 
can ’t leave them here, and if we try to carry them 
with us, those ‘ land sharks ’ will beat us and will 
have bought our land before we can prevent it ! 
That’s what comes of being ‘squatters,’ ” he 
added, disconsolately. 

“There is only one thing that we have not 
found out,” Bee put in at this juncture, lest the 
strangers should think he and John were com- 
plaining, or begging assistance, ‘ ‘ who was it that 
followed us to our camp the night we first reached 
the river with our goods on the sled? We found 
tracks next day, you know. Black Eagle tells us 
how he killed the man who shot old Jerry two or 
three days before that, and you remember, Tom, 
some one was spying around the camp the day 
when you were there alone. ’ ’ 

Tom Fish scratched his head. • 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


331 


“That thar chap,” said he, “was the Big 
Buffalo varmint. I knowed that the same day I 
tracked him up, ’cause I caught sight on him. 
An’ that’s why I did a lot o’ picket duty after- 
ward; for T swan, if he’d ’a’ come back, I’d ’a’ 
fixed him, sure! But I didn’t tell you kittens 
’bout it, ye had enough to worry ye, an ’ you knew 
the skunk well enough to watch out for him, any- 
how. What he wanted that night, I don’t know, 
but if he could ’a’ caught us nappin’ he’d ’a’ 
prob’iy sent us all over Jordan.” 


CHAPTER XXIV. 


A Race to Connecticut. 

One by one the stars appeared and shone 
down upon the group of five white men and 
three Indians whom Fate had so strangely 
brought together in the heart of the wilderness. 
A south wind rustled and waved the dark 
branches of the forest trees, softly the river mur- 
mured its gentle songs, and all was peace where 
so short a time before, had raged a deadly con- 
flict. 

“I’ll tell ye what we kin do about them 
skins,” said Big Pete Ellis, “an’ that’s carry 
’em right with us to Fort Pitt I Why, Jimminy ! 
I kin carry a wagon load, myself!” 

“Jest the checker, pardner!” exclaimed 
Tom Fish, and Arthur Bridges also gave assent. 

“Black Eagle and Wah Wah, too,” the for- 
mer Indian put in. 

High Horse did not speak. Perhaps he 
thought it inconsistent with his dignity as chief 
to bend himself to labor. 


332 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


333 


“Why, it would be no trick at all to carry 
the cabin and a few acres of land with us, and let 
the Frenchers do their worst, if we had one or 
two more such friends,” laughed John. 

“It is kind of you men, everyone,” said Ree 
earnestly, “but it is asking too much. When Pete 
and I agreed to go to Connecticut, I decided we 
would hide the furs in a cave of which I know, 
not a great way from here, and leave them until 
we should be coming west again. Perhaps that 
would be the better way, for we have no time to 
lose. ’ ’ 

“A bundle to each man would land all the 
skins in Pittsburg while you were packing them 
in your cave,” said Arthur Bridges, and so in- 
sistently did the others agree with him, that Ree 
and John were glad, indeed, to accept their gen- 
erous proposal. 

Thus was a troublesome question easily dis- 
posed of, and a little later the sighing wind lulled 
seven forms to rest— John, who was still weak 
from his illness, and Tom Fish and Arthur 
Bridges being in the cabin, while Big Pete and 
the Indians were on the ground outside; and in 
the doorway Ree sat with his rifle across his 
knees. He did not much care now that he had so 


334 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


many friends about him whether Big Buffalo and 
his Mingo allies came, or not ; and his thoughts 
turned to other things. As the night wore peace- 
fully on, he planned again and again how he 
should go about to make Pete Ellis’ return to 
Connecticut as pleasant as it well could be, con- 
sidering that he was a fugitive from the law. 

It was nearly midnight when Big Pete arose 
and told Bee to get some sleep and he would 
* ‘ Keep his eyes open for Mingoes. ’ ’ 

The giant fellow was intensely interested in 
the return to Connecticut, and anxious to secure 
an early start. Before daylight he roused all 
members of the party, and without ado the furs 
were hauled out and sorted, the most valuable 
being made into bundles which could be strung 
over the shoulders of those who were to carry 
them, and the others, together with certain mer- 
chandise, which it was not desired to leave in the 
cabin, nor yet to take along, safely hidden under 
the boys ’ canoe in a great hollow log, high and 
dry on a hillside a quarter of a mile away. 

The sun was not yet an hour high when all 
was ready for the beginning of the long journey 
to the east. Articles of furniture and a few cook- 
ing utensils were left in the cabin for the use of 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


335 


anyone who might chance to pass that way in 
need of a place to spend the night or cook a meal ; 
and for the same reason the latch-string of the 
cabin was left hanging out. 

“It is just like leaving home, declared 
John, as they hade the little log house farewell, 
‘ ‘ and in spite of all we have gone through here, 
I should feel like crying if I thought we were 
never coming back. ’ ’ 

“But we are going to Connecticut now; is 
every one ready?” Ree broke in, cheerily. 

Once again the boys looked back to the little 
cabin as they and their party passed through the 
valley and climbed the hillside opposite. Then 
the trees shut out tlie view. Everyone seemed in 
good spirits. Even the Indians entered into the 
feeling of mutual helpfulness which prevailed, 
in a manner most creditable. High Horse de- 
manded to be allowed a share of the bundles and 
shouldered his portion manfully, walking silently 
beside Ree, for whom he exhibited a fatherly 
friendship which won him the respect of all that 
young man’s friends. 

By his untiring energy, Big Pete kept the 
whole party in rapid motion. He wished ever to 
be on the march and he and Tom Fish had sev- 


336 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


eral friendly tilts over his unwillingness to re- 
main long in camp at any time, or to go slowly 
when the old hunter requested it. 

Arthur Bridges was inclined to side in with 
Pete and to make all possible speed. He and 
John and Hee had become warm friends at once, 
and the latter having told him what he knew 
from Mrs. Catesby of the lonely mother who had 
so long awaited her son’s return, the wanderer’s 
only desire was to reach her as quickly as possi- 
ble. 

Black Eagle and Wah Wah were silent as 
Indians generally are when on the march. High 
Horse, also, spoke little, but thought much of 
Ree ’s invitation to him to continue on to Connec- 
ticut and visit the ‘ ‘ Mighty White Chief, ” as he 
called Capt. Bowen. He also wished to see the 
“Great White Father”— General Washington— 
and Ree was truly sorry that it was not in his 
power to take him to visit the man to whom the 
colonies and the Indians, also, owed so much. 

Only one incident of importance marked the 
trip to Pittsburg. Near the Ohio river the party 
came upon a small band of Mingoes, who showed 
themselves very friendly to High Horse, whom 
they at once recognized, and talked to him for 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


337 


some time. They told him, the chief afterward 
stated, that Big Butfalo had been furious in his 
rage when he discovered that his prisoner— Bee 
—had escaped. And when it became known that 
he had probably had the assistance of High 
Horse and Big Pete, he was so violent against 
these two that the Mingoes, among whom were 
former Mohawks of High Horse’s own tribe, 
turned against him and refused to help him fur- 
ther. Big Butfalo had then left their village 
without a word. 

‘‘Squaw men! Delawares squaw men!” 
grunted High Horse wrathfully, as he told of Big 
Buffalo’s actions. “Long ago Delawares were 
made squaw men by the Mighty Six Nations— 
by the mighty League of the Iroquois— Dela- 
wares were forbidden to make war. Nothing 
might they do but work with the corn and crops 
like squaws.” 

It was and is true, that the Iroquois for years 
compelled the Delawares to pay tribute to them 
and forbade them to go to war or to fight. This 
was possible because the Six Nations had con- 
quered that tribe after a long, bitter war, but it 
was before the time of High Horse and the Dela- 
wares were again a free people. 

22 


338 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


However, for many years the story of the 
humiliation of the tribe had been told and retold 
by the Senecas, Mohawks, Cayugas, Onandagas, 
Oneidas and Tuscaroras, which six nations 
formed the League of the Iroquois, and they al- 
ways referred to it when they wished to hold a 
Delaware up to contempt. 

Pittsburg— rough and wild as it was— looked 
most delightful in the eyes of the boy pioneers 
as they reached that frontier town and felt them- 
selves again within civilization’s borders. There 
was no trouble in securing the best accommoda- 
tions the border village, that Pittsburg then was, 
could boast ; for a buyer of the furs was readily 
found, and with a fine sum in their pockets, 
the boys felt that they could afford to see that 
their friends and themselves were well cared for 
after all their hardships. They secured new 
clothes, next day, also— frontier garments though 
they were— and made themselves generally pre- 
sentable for their return home. 

These transactions were not allowed to con- 
sume mucn time, and knowing that the French 
“land sharks” would be pushing steadily east- 
ward, Eee and John, Big Pete, Tom Fish and 
Arthur Bridges continued on their way next day. 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


339 


the boys having paid the Indians well for their 
assistance, and High Horse having decided that 
he would not visit Connecticut. 

Day after day as the travelers hurried along 
much the same way as Ree and John had trav- 
ersed, under such different circumstances, only 
a few months before, the friendships of the party, 
one for another, grew stronger. No part of the 
journey did John enjoy so much, however, as 
when they all stopped at the Eagle tavern where 
he and Ree had had their experience with the 
rascally Ichabod Nesbit. 

“Flax around my good friend! Give us 
the best you’ve got,” was the order he gave the 
landlord, and the fellow did “flax around” with 
amazing anxiety to please. 

Ree smiled with deep satisfaction as John 
winked at him in silent comment on the marked 
change in the landlord’s manner. Perhaps that 
individual realized that he had different boys to 
deal with than when these same two had been 
guests at his establishment before. 

And it was true ; seven months of hardships 
and absolute self-dependence had made of Re- 
turn Kingdom and John Jerome manly young 
men, old beyond their years, cool, self-reliant, 


340 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


self-respecting, as their Bnioeville friends were 
soon to see. 

From the vicinity of the Eagle tavern the five 
travelers took the coach which ran to Bmceville, 
and scarcely had Bee mounted to a sfeat beside 
the driver, whom he chanced to know slightly, 
than he learned from that individual something 
which interested him very much. It was, that 
at a stopping place earlier in the day, the man 
had seen a party of seven Frenchmen who were 
on their way to Hartford, they said, and were 
highly indignant because the coach they wished 
to take was completely filled and they must wait 
for the next one. 

Eee inquired further concerning the men. 
Hartford was the capital of the state (jointly 
with New Haven at that time) and men who 
wished to buy government land would be likely 
to go there. He secured a description of the fel- 
lows, and told Arthur Bridges about them. 

“The identical chaps!’’ exclaimed the man 
who had been guide for the French party in the 
Ohio country. “We must head them off!” 

Nothing could be done, however, without the 
help of Capt. Bowen and ofher friends, who 
would know just what action to take, and Eee and 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


341 


J ohn and their party continued on to Bruceville 
at the best speed possible. 

There was the usual congregation of men 
and hoys and loafers about the Bruceville tavern 
and when the mud-spattered, dusty coach rolled 
up to the place, and the driver with a superb 
flourish threw the reins to the man in waiting. No 
one was expecting to see Return Kingdom and 
John Jerome there, much less by Pete Ellis, who 
had left the town a fugitive, and when Kingdom 
climbed down from his seat on the box and J ohn 
and Ellis emerged from their seats inside, there 
was a surprise such as the tiny hamlet had not 
known for many a day. Tom Fish and Arthur 
Bridges were not known, but it mattered not, as 
they were continuing on by the same coach to 
Bridges’ home, having planned to watch the 
movements of the “land sharks” for the boys 
for a day or two. It was enough for Bruceville 
that the two lads whom many people had ex- 
pected never to see again, should so suddenly re- 
appear, and the strangers with them were not 
much noticed. 

What hand shaking there was ! Some 
looked suspiciously upon Pete Ellis, but by their 
actions the boys gave all to understand that 


342 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


friends of theirs must treat the former fugitive 
in a friendly maimer, and Ellis, quick to notice 
this, was far more grateful than he could have 
told in words. 

Little need is there to tell at length how the 
news of the boys ’ return, and the mystery of Big 
Pete being with them, was quickly spread far 
and near. And little the young pioneers cared 
what people said about their being in “bad com- 
pany”; they knew they were in the right, and 
though there was much criticism of them before 
all learned Pete Ellis’ strange story, they let the 
gossips talk. 

One of John’s brothers was among those 
present to see the coach come in, and he led that 
young gentleman home in triumph and high 
glee. With only a few words to the friends, who 
gathered round, Ree excused himself and walked 
quickly cross-lots to Capt. Bowen’s home accom- 
panied by Big Pete. 

With boyish hilarity the good old captain 
greeted his young friend and with all hospitality 
took Ellis into his home, also, without a question. 
Never before had Ree seen the value of having 
a good name, so forcibly illustrated. He knew 
that Capt. Bowen thought it strange that Big 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


343 


Pete was with him, but he knew, too, that the old 
gentleman also felt that it must be all right or 
it would not be so. 

At an early opportunity Ree explained 
everything, and told his story in full. To his 
great relief the Captain said that there was not 
the least danger of the French “land sharks’’ 
buying the tract on which he and John had set- 
tled, because there was some controversy as to 
whether the territory in that part of Ohio be- 
longed to the United Colonies or to Connecticut 
alone. The state claimed it upon a grant which 
had been made by James I. The ownership had 
not been settled and meanwhile there could be no 
sale of any part of the land. 

Capt. Bowen was personally acquainted with 
the Trumbull family, so prominent in all early 
Connecticut affairs, and assured Eee that he 
would take care of the boys’ interests and see to 
it that the Frenchmen nor any one else deprived 
them of their rights, though he had no doubt the 
“land sharks” had gone to Hartford to try to 
purchase the land. 

The friendly old soldier then turned to the 
case of Big Pete Ellis. That, too, he said, could 
be speedily taken care of. The very next morn- 


344 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


ing, indeed, he and Ree and Pete drove to see the 
proper officials and entered the latter ^s appear- 
ance for trial, the Captain signing his bond, so 
that he was not even locked up. 

But the case of the State of Connecticut vs. 
Peter Ellis was never tried. It was dropped 
when it was found that the giant fellow had real- 
ly reformed and Jim Huson, on Bee’s account, 
refused to prosecute. 

Just here, also, another interesting circum- 
stance must be related. Less than a month after 
Big Pete ’s return, and while he was working on 
Capt. Bowen’s farm, came news that by the death 
of an aunt, he had inherited a fine piece of prop- 
erty. The bequest was conditional upon his hav- 
ing abandoned his wild ways and settled down by 
the time the will was made public. This Pete 
had certainly done to the satisfaction of every- 
body. 

Ree and John were no less delighted than he 
over his good fortune and were likewise glad that 
the farm thus given him was only a few miles 
from that of Arthur Bridges’ mother, where 
Arthur and Tom Fish were settled down to work 
and good living. 

To the two boys Ellis gave all the credit for 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


345 


his reformation, and saying that but for them he 
would have remained in the west and never have 
received his legacy, he insisted on making them 
each a handsome cash present. 

On the Sunday following their return home 
Eee and John met at church and afterward they 
went to the Catesby home, Mrs. Catesby and 
Mary having come hack to the farm for the sum- 
mer. How delightful it was to see these old 
friends again, and to sit and talk with them in 
their pleasant parlor, which was thrown open in 
honor of the visitors! And Mary was prettier 
and more winning in all her ways than ever be- 
fore, and jolly as could be, though she became 
quite serious as Mrs. Catesby pressed the hoys 
to tell of their adventures and they related some 
of them. 

“Surely you will never go back there— 
never go so far past the frontier again, will 
you?” she asked. “I should think the country 
farther east would be quite wild enough— and 
dangerous enough, too!” 

“But you see,” said Ree, reflectively, though 
he smiled at her tone of alarm, “everything in all 
our experience that seemed a misfortune or hard- 
ship at the time, has turned out luckily for us. 


346 


PAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


When Big Pete Ellis caused us to miss our talk 
with Jim Huson the night he ran away, for in- 
stance, we were quite put out. But except for 
that Ellis would not have been where he was 
when I so badly needed him ; and but for Pete’s 
running away, too, we might never have met 
Capt. Bowen, who did so much for us, and whose 
knife came in so handy. 

“It was all for the best that I lost the knife 
in the strange way I did, and all for the best that 
Ichabod Nesbit tried to rob us at the Eagle tav- 
ern. If he had not done so, he would not have 
chanced to kill the young Indian, North Wind, 
but would not in consequence, have been killed 
himself, but would have followed his plan of 
going into the Ohio country to find and kill 
Arthur Bridges and might have succeeded. 

“I speak of these things only to show that 
we can never tell just what is best for us, and 
what seems like the worst kind of an obstacle may 
really be a stepping stone. And the Ohio country 
is a beautiful place. It will be all settled some 
day, even more than Connecticut is now; but 
some one must make the start.” 

“Even if that ‘someone’ is but two boy 
pioneers,” said Mrs. Catesby, with a little sigh 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 


347 


and a smile. ‘ ‘ For my part, I think that both of 
you have already done your share, what with 
your having brought our own Arthur Bridges 
home, and having made a man of that formerly 
good-for-nothing Peter Ellis.” 

Notwithstanding the advice of Mrs. Catesby 
and many other friends, Bee and J ohn did return 
to the Ohio country. Many were their adven- 
tures, and great their hardships but they lived to 
see Ohio one of the Union’s grandest states, and 
themselves two of its worthy and well-to-do citi- 


zens. 





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